


Otherworld

by WritingNeverending



Category: Amphibia (Cartoon), Infinity Train (Cartoon), The Owl House (Cartoon), Twelve Forever (Cartoon)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon Compliant, Canon Speculation, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Crossover, Friendship, Gen, Getting to Know Each Other, Harm to Children, Magic, Mystery, Post-Canon, Swordplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26190952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingNeverending/pseuds/WritingNeverending
Summary: Go, now, if you want it. An otherworld awaits you. Don’t you give up on it. The otherworld, it takes you.-------------------------------------------------------------------This isn’t fair. Her number hit zero. It’s supposed to be over. She’s supposed to be home.
Comments: 149
Kudos: 171





	1. Run

**Author's Note:**

> If y’all want to follow my writing and any other random stuff that I get up to, check out my tumblr right [here](https://chronicler-of-legends.tumblr.com/)!

Her heart thundered in her ears. Her legs were on fire. Her breaths grew shorter and shorter with each passing second. But Tulip couldn’t afford to stop. Not even for a moment. The roars were still dangerously near.

She crashed through a low hanging branch. Stumbled as her boots hit a patch of mud. Vaulted over a rotting log. Desperately, _desperately_ held back her tears, even as her eyes burned, even as she choked from the sobs threatening to escape her throat.

This isn’t fair. Her number hit _zero_. It’s supposed to be _over_. She’s supposed to be _home_.

The beast’s roar echoed, still as close as before. It’s chasing her, and it’s keeping pace. She hasn’t even got a good look at it. Only glimpses of misshapen limbs in the dark, relentless footfalls that shook the earth with each step, and roars that sounded like the unholy love child of an elephant’s trumpet and a jet engine from hell.

Her blind sprinting led her to a cliff edge. She couldn’t see what awaited her at the bottom, but she spotted a hollow log leaning against the edge, leading towards the darkness. Tulip didn’t give herself time to doubt. The beast didn’t either. She slipped inside and slid down, hoping to god nothing worse greeted her in the dark.

The log stretched far longer than normal. It twisted and bent in truly unnatural ways. The ride down reminded her of a novelty tube slide at a waterpark. Or maybe her panic-addled mind was playing tricks on her. Hitting her head over and over against the insides of the log as it turned and looped and spun most likely won’t be good for the brain.

The log slide spat her out into the air. Unprepared, she landed hard on her back, knocking the wind from her lungs. The pain overwhelmed her. She coughed and wheezed, letting her eyes flutter to a close, letting the exhaustion claim her.

The train rarely made sense, but One-One made one rule clear: when your number reaches zero, you can go home. She saw North Branch. She saw her house, her front yard, her front door. When she stepped through, she should be home. Why did it lead her here?

Terrible roars snapped her eyes open. The beast hasn’t given up yet.

No. After five months on the train, after the mirror police, after the fake Conductor, she won’t give up now. If the train wanted to place one last obstacle in her way, then she’ll adapt.

Tulip forced herself up with her elbows and took in her surroundings. Silver rays of moonlight pierced through the thick canopy in a few spots, making it easier to see. It seemed she had landed on an ancient, gargantuan dead tree, easily the same width as an entire highway, suspended several hundred feet above the jungle floor by a mass of mighty vines thicker than her entire body. She could see other trees in the distance roughly the same size as the one she’s on, still rooted to the ground, reaching towards the stars like skyscrapers.

“What is this, the Ancient Jungle Car?”

Tulip tensed. That terrible roar again, coming from above.

Her body screamed in pain as she scrambled to her feet. She nearly lost her footing when the entire log rumbled, as something heavy and large and angry touched down on the spot where she was moments ago. This time, she got the chance to spin around and take a good look at the beast. Instantly, she regretted the decision.

Structurally, the beast bore the barest amount of a resemblance to a T-rex - large hind legs, a pair of tiny arms, and a massive head - but that’s where the similarities end. The ‘legs’ were little more than three bulbous masses of flesh stacked on top of one another, connected to the main body with strands of skin and bone. The ‘arms’ were a pair of flailing tentacles, from which smaller tentacles sprout from. The ‘head’ had two faces - one was reptilian, with gnashing teeth and slitted eyes, while the other was disturbingly human, with a grin literally splitting its face open. The human face was the source of the terrible roars.

Tulip briefly wondered why the beast had ceased to chase after her, until she realized its rough landing had caused it to get one of its bulbous legs stuck in the tree. It flailed with wild abandon, trying to pry its leg free, roaring and crying and smashing everything around it, almost like it’s an infant throwing a tantrum.

Tulip almost smiled. That would buy her more time. Until she heard something _snap_ , and the entire log _trembled_. She didn’t need to look. The vines, thick as they were, won’t hold.

Tulip turned and sprinted towards the edge. More _snaps_ , more tremors, as the beast’s tantrum only grew worse. She could feel the wood beneath her beginning to break apart, too. All the more reason to get off this log _now_.

A great, ear-splitting _crack_ drew her eyes over her shoulder. The beast had freed its leg. A series of _cracks_ filled the air as the entire log began to crumble and tear in half from the hole it left behind. The beast had no chance of escaping it, standing so close to the source. It fell into the abyss, screeching all the while. Good. One problem solved.

Many more to go.

Tulip knew she couldn’t outrun the tear. She threw herself prone, dug her fingers into the wood, clenched her eyes shut, and hoped with all of her heart that she’ll survive. 

The _cracks_ rang louder than thunder. She felt the log starting to tilt, faster and faster and faster, the wind whipping past her like lashes against her sweat-soaked skin. A chorus of _snaps_ followed the cracks as she now dangled completely vertical to the ground, the ancient vines unable to withstand the motion. And neither could she. Her left hand slipped as the swing reached its apex. Her right hand gave way at the recoil. Suddenly, she’s in freefall.

Her world was chaos. Up, down, left, or right no longer mattered. A scream left her throat outside of her will. A whirlwind of foliage, of branches and vines and leaves consumed her, battered her, tossed her around like a ragged doll.

Tulip didn’t remember passing out. But when she regained her senses, she was lying against some kind of fibrous mesh, her body ached all over, her ponytail’s come undone, the right lens of her glasses was cracked, and her left arm throbbed in pain, trapped under her body in an awkward angle. On the bright side, she’s still alive. The pain meant that she survived.

Tulip carefully moved her left arm from under her, hissing as the pain flared, the arm screaming in protest. Dislocated? Maybe. Hopefully not. Hopefully it was only a sprain. She took in her surroundings - not easy with her being in near complete darkness and having a cracked lens. Best she could tell, she’s surrounded by old metal, rusted and halfway claimed by nature, everything seemed tilted at an extreme vertical angle, and that the fibrous mesh she landed on reminded her a lot of netting used to secure cargo during flights. She looked up and spotted tiny slivers of moonlight streaking through small gaps in the metal.

“Rusted metal. Angled positions. Cargo netting. Jungle.” She paused to think. “Am I in the wreckage of a cargo plane? Would fit the setting.”

Tulip nestled into the netting, pointedly ignoring the way her backpack dug into her back, settling into the most comfortable position she could manage. A long breath escaped her lips.

“If I’m still even on the train.”

A glance at her palm confirmed what she already knew. Her number was gone.

It wasn’t simply at zero anymore. It no longer existed. It was _gone_. The train opened a portal for her. The portal led to her home. She stepped through it, and now she’s here.

A terrifying thought clutched her mind. A freezing chill crept down her spine.

“This- this can’t be Earth… right?”

A yawn escaped her lips, despite herself. Her eyelids grew heavy again. Exhaustion was taking hold, gripping onto her even tighter than before. Try as she might, the allure of sleep was too great to ignore. Perhaps mind-numbing, crippling dread could wait until morning…

A familiar, terrible roar jolted her awake. It was close. Too close. Great. One problem _un_ solved.

Already, she heard footsteps outside; slow, rhythmic, and growing louder. She heard breathing, heavy and ragged. It must be standing literally right outside now. The rusted carcass of the plane was the only thing between her and the beast. Running was out of the equation.

Tulip clamped her injured hand over her mouth, ignoring the pain, and wrapped the other in a death grip around the netting. She didn’t dare twitch. Didn’t dare to even breathe.

The cargo plane _lurched_. She bit back a scream. The beast had definitely struck the plane, but it didn’t feel aggressive. Felt more like a curious nudge. It’s searching for her. It had no idea she’s in here. If she kept quiet long enough, it would eventually move on.

The beast nudged the plane again. Something somewhere on the plane broke apart and clattered down to the jungle floor. She heard the beast shift, sniffing the air and the ground. The beast shifted again, taking one step, then another, then another, then another, away from the plane carcass. Tulip let her eyes close and her tense muscles relax.

Until rapid, heavy footfalls returned like a lightning bolt

It wasn’t leaving. It was rearing back.

A massive jolt upended the entire carcass, sending it crashing and rolling to the ground. Tulip would have been battered into a pulp inside if not for the arm she’d wrapped around the net. When the ride ended, she was left dangling by her right arm from the ceiling, but another sprain was better than a cracked skull. She quickly untangled her arm from the netting and let herself drop. She had a feeling the beast wasn’t satisfied just yet.

And she was right. The ceiling suddenly warped inward with a ringing _clang_. It bent and snapped more and more, the clanging above continuing at a fevered pitch. The beast must be literally stomping its feet like a petulant child on top of the plane. Tulip spied a broken window in the dark. She wasted no time to dash and dive through it.

The plane was suspended higher up than she thought. She tried to land on her feet, but her angle was all wrong. She hit the ground on her side, on her left, worse arm. A cry of pain was ripped from her throat. The beast’s tantrum came to an abrupt halt. For a beat, the jungle fell deathly silent.

Tulip didn’t look back. Looking back meant losing precious milliseconds that could be the difference between life and death. She pushed her battered body to her feet and sprinted into the dark. The ground shook behind her. The rhythmic footfalls chased relentlessly after her. And she was back on square one.

[“ _Get down_!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYZKzSJOoDo)

Tulip hit the dirt immediately. A split second passed before she questioned why she listened to the voice. Another split second passed before she questioned whose voice it was she listened to.

Something flew over her head. The distinct _crack_ of wood breaking filled the air, followed by the beast crying in pain. A beat of silence, then a loud _boom_. When she dared to look, she saw the beast had been driven back, crumpled against the plane carcass, wheezing weakly, clearly in pain. What could possibly be responsible for doing that?

“Hey, dude!”

That same voice again. Tulip whipped her head around. Her eyes landed on a dark, humanoid shape standing across from her at the clearing’s edge, a pair of blue pinpricks burning at its head.

“Don’t just sit there! Run!”

Behind her, she heard the beast starting to rise. Tulip didn’t need to be told twice.

She mustered every ounce of energy she had left and _bolted_. The shape leapt into the air, over her head. She heard the thud of sturdy feet against the dirt and the distinct _schwing_ of steel.

“How’s about you pick on someone your own size, buddy?!”

The beast roared.

Tulip wished she could be anywhere but here.

Tulip saw very little of the actual battle, but she heard plenty to keep her running. Battle cries, pained shrieks, the gnashing of teeth, the rip of steel cutting flesh, the splatter of liquid against wood and leaves. The glimpses she saw were worse - dark shapes shaking the earth, whole trees torn and uprooted, and sometimes, blinding flashes of blue that would illuminate the dark jungle.

No matter how far, how hard she ran, the sounds never disappeared into the distance. The beast must still be after her, even while being attacked by a third party. Why was this creature so fixated on her? This kind of behavior isn’t natural. Any other animal would have given up at this point. What kind of monster is this thing?

A resounding _boom_ , followed by a screech of pain. The beast must be dazed. Tulip banked a sharp left. Maybe she could shake off the beast while it’s struggling. She got a few dozen feet before she skidded to a halt.

A cliff face. She ran directly into a cliff face.

Tulip spun on her heels. The beast was already there, bounding towards her like a rabid dog.

Her back was pressed against the rough stones. She sucked in a breath, and braced for the inevitable.

A dark shape soared into the air. The moonlight ringed the figure from behind like an angelic halo.

A blur of blue fell from the sky. A cloud of dust covered the earth.

When the dust cleared, Tulip gasped.

The beast was dead. A sword was plunged into the top of its head, the blade glowing a brilliant blue. A sword wielded by the hand of a young girl.

She must be around Tulip’s age, maybe a little older. Brown skin, with wild, bushy brown hair to match, with sticks and dry leaves jutting out of the chaotic locks. Her clothes looked like it was some kind of uniform at one point, but the colors has degraded and the fabric frayed beyond recognition. A crude set of wooden armor was fitted over her shirt, not perfectly, but enough to be functional. But most striking of all was the fierce eyes boring into Tulip. They glowed blue - same as the blade in her hand.

The girl pulled out the sword from the beast with a wet _schlop_. Tulip must’ve flinched, because the girl’s hardened visage disappeared, replaced with a guilty expression.

“Whoa! It’s okay, dude.” She made a calming motion with her free hand. Her eyes, and the blade, gradually lost their glow. “I’m cool. I’m a friend.”

The girl slowly stepped down from the beast, making her movement as telegraphed and non-threatening as possible. Tulip appreciated the gesture, but she still watched her carefully. The girl fought this hulking monstrosity and _won_. 

“Are you hurt?”

Tulip wanted to unravel right then and there. Spill everything about every cut, every ache that she had to endure. But she held back. “Just… bruises,” she said instead. “I’ll be fine.”

The girl raised an eyebrow and gave her a once over. She’s studying Tulip, and she’s doing it well. “Um, hate to break it to ya, but you’ve got more than just bruises.”

Tulip winced. Her adrenaline was subsiding, and the pain returned in force. So much pain. The girl made a humming noise, lips pursed in thought.

“We can patch you up at our shelter. You just sit tight for now, I’m gonna see if big ol’ beastie here’s got any edible parts.” The girl poked the dead beast with her sword. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

Tulip nodded along. She needed the help. Something the girl said stuck out to her, though. “We?”

“Yeap.” The girl plunged her sword into the beast again. Tulip couldn’t stop herself from flinching again at the noise it made. “The two of us aren’t the only ones stuck in this place.”

Tulip perked up ever so slightly. Information. Very useful information. The girl left the blade stuck in the beast and wiped off her hands on her skirt. She turned, showing Tulip a friendly, sincere smile.

“Hey. What’s your name?”

Tulip wasn’t sure why she hesitated. The girl has been nothing but kind to her. A name wouldn’t hurt, right? “Tulip. My name’s Tulip.”

Her smile grew. “Okay. Nice to meet you, Tulip.”

The girl offered her hand for a handshake. Tulip glanced down. No numbers.

“I’m Anne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go.
> 
> This is a story that’s been brewing in the back of my head for over a year at this point. Maybe longer? It definitely started around the time people were making the western isekai connections. And if you’re familiar with my work with the MK, you know I love me a good crossover, especially when it involves more than two properties. But I’m getting ahead of myself. 
> 
> I originally wanted to have the first portion of the chase last a bit longer, show Tulip fending off the beast on her own before Anne swoops in to save the day. It ended up feeling a little repetitive? So I shortened that section. Tulip will have plenty of opportunities to show off what she’s capable of later on.
> 
> Next chapter is coming as soon as possible, which actually won’t be very soon. I’ve got a few other fics that are overdue to be worked on to completion. Until then!


	2. Ache

Anne was strong.

Tulip should’ve already known that. She saw her fight the hulking beast. She saw her _slay it_ with one blow. But it still caught her off guard when she accepted her handshake, to _feel_ her strength firsthand. Her surprise must’ve shown on her face. From the way Anne sheepishly smiled after, this wasn’t the first time it happened.

Tulip stayed out of the way while Anne got to work on… harvesting anything edible from the beast. Some days on the train, Tulip had to resort to eating some rather bizarre things to survive, but she could never imagine herself eating… whatever the beast was supposed to be. The sounds of Anne hacking away were just awful. Tulip clamped her hands over her ears, hummed a low tune to herself, and trained her eyes on a patch of leaves that was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

Thankfully, Anne worked fast. When Tulip felt a tap on her shoulder, she turned to see Anne had stuffed everything she collected into a sack until it was fit to burst, hefted over one shoulder. She slid her sword, slick with greyish-blue at this point, back inside the sheath strapped to her back and regarded Tulip with narrowed eyes.

“You’re looking rough there, Tulip. Can you walk?” she asked after a brief beat. “I can carry you if you want.”

Tulip blinked. Her eyes were drawn to the hefty sack slung over Anne’s shoulder. “I can handle myself. You’re already carrying so much.”

Anne rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her lips. “Dude, don’t worry about me. This,” she gave the sack on her shoulder a little shake, “is nothing.”

“I’ll be fine. Honest,” Tulip insisted.

There was a long, _long_ silence, where Anne studied Tulip with a look that Tulip was quickly familiarizing herself with, before Anne shrugged. “If you say so,” she said. “Stay close to me, okay?”

Something somewhere in the jungle made a noise and Tulip couldn’t tell if it was close or far or safe or dangerous. The point was, she didn’t need to be told that.

Anne seemed to know her way quite well through this jungle. Every step she took, every turn she made felt like they came from experience. Experience that a girl her age shouldn’t have. But that thought remained half-formed in Tulip’s mind. What a hypocrite she’d be, accusing someone of not acting their age. She kept a respectful silence, following after Anne down to her exact footsteps.

Tulip couldn’t quite explain why, but something in the way that Anne carried herself made her comfortable with following Anne’s lead. Maybe it’s the experience. Maybe it’s that natural charisma that some people had. Or maybe her brain was just being weird after finally experiencing real, proper human contact for the first time in five months.

That’s another surreal fact that Tulip had yet to fully swallow. Anne is a human. Not a strange inhabitant of the train, but a real, flesh and blood human. Atticus and One-One are her dear friends and she loved their company, but she never realized how _starved_ she was for human contact until now. She’s now in the company of another human. Or at least, someone who looked very human. The glowing blue eyes weren’t something humans could do, last Tulip checked. Still, it didn’t stop her from wanting to reach out and maybe, just maybe, graze her hand against Anne’s.

“So, Tulip,” Anne said suddenly, snapping Tulip out of her thoughts and causing her to realize that she’s been staring at Anne’s hand for far too long, “you came here with anyone?”

“With- what?” Tulip paused to process the question. That’s a little weirdly specific. “N-no, I’m- I’m here alone.”

Anne shot her a glance. She looked… surprised. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Tulip said slowly. Her eyes narrowed. Her curiosity has been piqued. “Wait, why’d you ask? Did you not come here alone?”

“Nope. Was with my friends. Two of ‘em.” How casually Anne answered the question surprised Tulip. She expected Anne to, at the very least, show a hint of hesitance.

Anne’s easy demeanor flickered like a candle struck by a sudden burst of wind. “The second we got here, we got… separated.”

Tulip stared daggers down at her wet, worn out boots. Now she felt guilty of ever seeing Anne in a suspicious light. Losing your friends was rough. She knew the feeling well. “Sorry to hear that.”

“I’ll find them again.” Anne shrugged off the dark clouds around her like they were nothing. She even shot Tulip a quick smile. “This ain’t my first rodeo.”

Tulip perked up slightly. Not Anne’s first rodeo? So her brain wasn’t being weird. This girl definitely has experience. Plenty of it. Maybe even enough to know where they were.

“So. Where exactly _is_ here?” she tentatively asked. “Is this… Earth?”

Anne snorted a clipped laugh. “No. No, definitely not.”

“Then where are we?”

Anne stopped. Her face was blank. She didn’t answer for a long time.

“I have no idea.”

After a beat, Anne continued to walk without showing her face. Tulip tried to not let her heart sink too much. Once, she knew less for longer. The train saw to that.

The next leg of the walk passed mostly in silence. Their brief conversation left Tulip bursting with questions, but she held back upon seeing how focused Anne looked finding her way through this jungle. The last thing Tulip wanted was to distract her and get both of them lost. She kept her curiosity in check, for now.

Their path led them to a rather steep, sudden decline. Anne slid her way down while barely breaking her stride. Tulip couldn’t quite do the same. She edged her way down slowly, without being able to spread her arms to better balance herself. One foot slid down a little faster than the other, and that was it. She fell on her butt and rolled the rest of the way down, getting more dirt and muck stuck on her everywhere. The pain that had settled into a dull throb flared once again, drawing a cry from Tulip despite her best effort to bite it down.

“Whoa!”

Anne was by her side within seconds. A familiar set of narrowed, worried eyes studied Tulip up and down.

“Yeah, nothing about you is okay. Shouldn’t have let you walked in the first place.” Anne’s last sentence was directed more to herself than to Tulip. “I’m carrying you the rest of the way and that’s final.”

“No, Anne, it’s fine.” Tulip tried her best to put on a (most likely terrible) brave face. “This… isn’t exactly my first rodeo too.”

“Do you have superpowers?”

Tulip blinked. “Uh… no?”

Anne closed her eyes. When she opened them, they glowed an unearthly, brilliant blue. Tulip’s jaw fell slack.

“Then I’m carrying you.”

Tulip was too dumbfounded to retort. She simply watched as Anne adjusted the position of the sack slung over her shoulders, tying it off across her chest so it functioned more like a backpack. A part of Tulip’s mind gained enough coherence to be confused. She’d assumed Anne was going to give her a piggyback ride.

“Wait, how are you gonna- _whoa, okay_.”

Anne carefully slipped her arms underneath Tulip and gently lifted her up in a bridal carry. Okay. Well. She _did_ want to touch Anne’s hand again. Though this might be just a bit too much contact than what she was expecting. Tulip couldn’t help but feel a little red in the cheeks. Especially with the way Anne was smiling softly, kindly down at her.

“Comfy?” she asked. The blue eyes suddenly didn’t feel as intimidating as it used to.

“Uh,” Tulip coughed, “yeah.”

“Then off we go!”

Anne took off in a brisk jog, as if she wasn’t weighed down by anything. It didn’t take Tulip long to realize their pace was faster now that Anne was the one doing all the moving. They could have covered so much more distance if Tulip just listened to Anne the first time she asked. She swallowed the rising lump in her throat and kept her face neutral. Again, she’d rather not take up Anne’s attention. Not right now. 

She’s warm. Anne. In perfect contrast to the cold jungle air. Tulip found herself sinking deeper into Anne’s embrace. Burying her face in the gap between Anne’s armor. Lulled nearly to sleep by the gentle back and forth swaying of Anne’s arms. Was it intentional? Was Anne rocking Tulip to sleep like a baby? She didn’t care much at this point. The mounting exhaustion drifted her off, thoughts in her head trailing off into muddled mumbles, before simmering into blissful silence. Until she realized the jungle had abruptly ended.

Really. One step, Anne was standing on dirt caked with roots and dry leaves, another step, and she’s suddenly standing on an asphalt road. The towering trees were replaced by towering skyscrapers of glass and steel. Strangely shaped, towering skyscrapers. Tulip had to blink away the sleep in her eyes to realize the buildings were shaped roughly like people in the middle of various activities. One row had three buildings, each one shaped like a person in the middle of a sprint, a person reading a newspaper, and a person taking a huge swig out of a mug. Another row had someone doing finger guns, someone taking a deep bow, and someone rocking the guitar. Despite the bizarre shapes, they seem to be functional as buildings, with a front entrance, windows giving her a glimpse of rooms and hallways inside, some even had external elevators. Many, if not all, of these structures were in direct violation of several laws of physics. It would be impossible to build them, let alone for them to stay standing. And yet, they continue to stand.

“Told ya,” Anne said. She must’ve noticed the bewildered look on Tulip’s face. Not that she was trying to hide it at all. “Not Earth.”

Tulip nodded without meaning to. These structures wouldn’t look out of place on the train. The Human City Car.

Tulip had to check her palm again. No numbers. Right.

All the buildings were dark. No signs of life or light could be seen from the windows. The streets were dark and empty too. There were no cars, not even ones parked by the curb. Streetlights lined the sides of the street but none of them were on. The silver moon above remained the only source of light for them both.

“Does anyone live here?” Tulip asked quietly. Something told her the silence of this strange city was not meant to be disturbed.

“Just us, far as I know,” Anne replied, no effort to keep her voice low.

Another glance around and something clicked for Tulip. “This place doesn’t look abandoned.”

“I get what you mean,” agreed Anne. “Feels more like it’s never been used, right? Like, it got built, but the people it’s meant for never showed up?”

A chill ran down Tulip’s spine. That’s worse than the city being abandoned, somehow. Anne either found nothing wrong with it, or she’s been living here for long enough that it no longer affected her. 

“What if they show now?” Tulip murmured, less of a question and more of a stream of thought.

Anne made a thinking noise, and blew her lips. “I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Anne followed the city streets as easily as she trekked through the jungle. Eventually, she moved away from the main street, ducking into a smaller side street. This seemed to be a residential area, with relatively smaller buildings more similar to apartment blocks than offices, built from brick and concrete. She jogged to the end of the block, to an apartment that-

Tulip stared. That building couldn’t possibly be depicting someone dabbing, right?

“Before you ask,” Anne cracked a grin, “it is dabbing.”

Well. Okay. Fine.

Anne skirted around to a door painted striking red on the side of the building’s ‘right leg’. She nudged the door open with her foot, adjusted her hold on Tulip to clutch Tulip closer to her, and sidestepped inside. As the door closed behind them, Tulip had expected to be plunged into darkness, and was pleasantly surprised to see functioning lights, bathing the interior in its dim yellow glow. They stood at the end of a hallway, flanked on either side by a row of polished, wooden doors. The walls were painted a plain beige, and the floor was tiled with blank, black ceramic. Everything about it was the very picture of dull normalcy.

But the pervading sense of _wrong_ remained. Just like the city outside, the inside of the building looks mostly untouched. Even the air itself felt sterile; like it’s been scrubbed clean to the point it stung Tulip’s nose. There were a few points of comfort, of flaws in the perfect painting, like patches of dirt on the ceramic floor or doodles of arrows on the wall pointing forward, most likely made by Anne during her previous trips through here.

The lights were uneven too. Some shined brighter than others, and some would even… shift? Did the lights just move? Tulip turned her attention towards the ceiling, craned her neck closer, and gasped.

Not a single lamp on the ceiling was on. The lights illuminating this hallway weren’t coming from lamps or light bulbs. They came from literal orbs of light, gently floating in place near the ceiling, forming a trail leading deeper into the building.

Tulip gaped. “The lights… aren’t-”

“Ah, you noticed.” Anne briefly glanced up, regarding the orbs of light with complete nonchalance. Nothing seemed to faze her in this world. “Yeah, we can’t get electricity to run here, but there’s a _lot_ of paper. So, we improvise with what we have.”

That explanation only left Tulip with more questions. A million things she wanted to say bubbled to her throat, but nothing left her lips. The pain, the exhaustion, the bizarreness of it all, had drained her so thoroughly that she let herself fall limp again in Anne’s arms. 

The trail of lights and arrows on the wall led Anne up a flight of stairs, once, twice, thrice. Neither Tulip nor the sack on her back slowed her down one bit. She turned left, guided by the light until she came to a stop in front of a door marked by the doodle of a strange, circular symbol. This must be it. Tulip silently noted the room’s location in her head - third floor, turn left at the stairs, fifth door on the right. 

As Anne moved to grab the doorknob, a thought struck Tulip like a bolt. She’s going to meet someone new.

“Wait,” she quickly cut in. “When you say ‘we’, how many people is that exactly?”

“Just plus one.” Anne saw the sudden nerves, and spared her a soft smile. “Don’t worry, she’s super nice. You’ll like her.”

Anne reached down and twisted the doorknob. The door swung open and she, again, clutched Tulip closer to her chest as they passed through the door. Tulip took a deep breath and braced.

Anne announced their entrance.

“Luz, I found someone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new challenger appears!
> 
> Remember how I said it might be a while before the next chapter is out? Turns out, I lied. I can’t stop thinking about this fic. Can’t stop working on it. So I thought, might as well get one more chapter out before college starts.
> 
> I did not initially plan for this section of the fic to be as long as it is, let alone take up an entire chapter. The overall pacing of the story is supposed to be quite a lot faster than this. But I kinda revamped the whole story while I’m writing this chapter. Made it move slower so I can give each moment more focus. 
> 
> Now, next time, is really going to take a while to come out. Maybe. Until then!
> 
> If y’all want to follow my writing and any other random stuff that I get up to, check out my tumblr right [here](https://chronicler-of-legends.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> EDIT: Now with amazing art drawn by the incredibly talented Sketchz42! Please do support her and check out more of her art right [here](https://twitter.com/Sketchz42)!


	3. Hide

Luz tensed, a hand reaching for the owl staff when she heard footsteps approaching beyond the door. When the _click_ of the doorknob followed, she relaxed. If that was anyone other than Anne, they’d be screaming in pain right now.

“Luz, I found someone.”

Her heart leapt to her throat. She jumped to her feet, scrambling and stumbling around the fire pit to the front door. Found someone? Could it be? Willow? _Amity_?

Anne stood in the small corridor connecting the door to the living room. Her eyes were alight like twin orbs of blue flames. The golden hilt of her trusted sword peeked over her shoulder like a loyal companion. A hefty burlap sack was tied across her chest, fitting the width of the corridor, and she acted as if it weighed nothing at all. However, most striking of all, her arms carried a frail, battered girl that Luz has never seen before.

Her skin was pale white, almost sickly, almost like a porcelain doll. The green jacket hugging her body barely qualified to be considered a jacket anymore, so damaged was its state. A mess of red hair framed a sharp face worn down by turmoil and exhaustion. Brown eyes stared at Luz through a pair of cracked glasses, piercing yet nervous.

A pang of disappointment struck Luz’s heart, and she hated it. She just hoped it didn’t show on her face.

“Oh god, you poor thing.” Luz gasped. She stepped back, motioning Anne further inside. “Quick, put her down on the couch.”

Anne and Luz moved quickly. Luz cleared up the clutter around the couch - mostly her papers, her cape, and the owl staff - and rearranged the cushions for the girl to comfortably lie down on. Anne circled the fire pit in the middle of the living room and gently lowered the girl onto the couch, but kept a hand supporting her back while Luz slid the girl’s backpack off of her. Luz placed the backpack in the corner for now, next to Anne’s backpack, as Anne helped the girl settle into the most comfortable position she could manage.

Luz and Anne took a step back, watching the girl recline further, sinking into the cushions. She really looked like she needed it. No, _deserved_ it.

“Where did you find her?” Luz whispered. The last thing she wanted was to disturb the girl.

“The jungle,” Anne replied, whispering too. Her eyes have returned to their natural color.

“You were in the jungle? This late at night?” Luz whipped her head to face Anne, her voice rising without her meaning to.

Anne never met her eyes. Her gaze was locked on the girl. “Yeah, yeah, chew me out later. This girl needs your magic heals and she needs it now.”

Good point. Anne could take care of herself. Luz knelt by the girl with her best bedside smile. “Hey,” she began, catching the girl’s attention, “can you tell me where it hurts?”

“Um, cuts and bruises on… everywhere. I think I dislocated my left arm. Might have sprained my right arm. Wouldn’t be surprised if I broke a few ribs too.” The girl’s eyes wandered lazily down her body, as if reluctant, lingering on each part, reliving the memories.

Luz tried to keep her smile, but found it harder and harder to do with each injury the girl listed. “You’ve been through the wringer,” was all Luz could say, half-smiling and half-cringing.

The girl made a small noise and a weak shrug. Yeah, fair enough. Luz wouldn’t know how to respond to that either.

“Alright, first, let’s take that jacket off.” Luz reached for the zipper of the girl’s jacket, and remembered something important. “I’m Luz, by the way.”

“Tulip.”

Awww. “Tulip. That’s a lovely name.”

A faint shade of red stained Tulip’s pale cheeks. She didn’t hear that often, Luz could tell. But now, back to business.

Luz zipped the jacket open and worked together with Tulip to shed the garment from her body without ruining it even further. She tried to not cringe - or at least not cringe too hard - as two jagged, red lines running along Tulip’s triceps and an ugly, purple blotch on her underarms were exposed for the world to see. A low, sharp hiss came from Anne’s direction, which, yeah, so it wasn’t just her. As bad as the wounds were to look at, they’re probably the easiest to deal with. She’d have to take a closer look if Tulip really did break a few ribs. That left her with the arms.

“Let’s start with… _un_ dislocating your left arm.”

“That’s- do you know how?” Tulip’s eyes darted to the arm in question, nervous.

“Yeah, of course!” Hope no one noticed how her voice went up by a pitch at the end there. “My mom’s a nurse. I picked up a few things from her. I mean, I must have. That’s a thing that happens, right?”

“Dude.”

Yeah, that’s not helping her nerves any, Anne. “Yes, yes, I can do it, just- trust me!”

Luz fetched her marker from the pile of gear she’d set aside, as well as a decently-sized piece of paper. This was going to be a complicated one.

Luz felt the eyes watching her as she sketched line after line onto the paper. Butterflies fluttered from the pit of her stomach to lift her heart to the stars, as she realized, this was another opportunity to show someone the wonders of magic for the first time. She remembered perfectly the moment she lifted the veil for Anne. The wonder in Anne’s eyes, the rapid, anxious beating of her own heart, the way time itself seemed to freeze; the moment was, well, _magical_.

The glyph was done. Luz looked up to see Anne smiling and Tulip staring in a mix of confusion and fascination. She addressed Tulip with that bedside smile again.

“Can you turn around and lift your shirt? I need to apply this directly to the skin.”

Tulip flitted between the paper in her hands and Luz. “Apply… the paper?”

“Hey, what did I just say? Trust me.” The bedside smile might have turned a tad smug, but what the heck, she’s all giddy now.

Tulip’s movement was slow, but she’s still moving, scooting slightly in her seat so that her back was facing Luz and hiking the back of her shirt halfway up, revealing more ugly red lines and blotches of purple on her pale white skin. Luz will deal with them shortly. The arm was priority number one.

Luz slipped the paper under Tulip’s shirt to press it against the back of her left shoulder blade. Tulip craned her neck around, trying for a good look of what’s happening. Luz offered her a reassuring nod.

“Now. Hold still.”

Luz tapped the glyph. The paper was set alight in the deep blue colors of the Healing Coven, before dispersing, converted into a healing wave that seeped into Tulip’s body. At the same time, Luz gauged the amount of pressure she needed, and pushed against Tulip’s shoulder blade. She heard a _snap_ , as she felt the bone settling into its proper place, and a gasp escaped Tulip’s lips. Was that a good thing?

“Did that do it?” Luz immediately withdrew her hands. “Oh god, _please_ tell me that worked. _Please_ tell me I didn’t mess you up. Are you better? Worse? Average?”

Tulip breathed deep, once, twice, before answering, “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m… better, actually.”

All the tension in Luz’s body was released with a sigh of relief. She had never used a healing glyph to fix a dislocated bone. Good to know it could be used that way. Tulip gingerly rubbed her left shoulder, giving her left arm an experimental spin. She must still be feeling the healing wave working its magic in her body. Luz knew the sensation well - a steady wind, crisp and chilly like on an autumn morning, weaving its way through the nooks and crannies inside you. It took some getting used to.

“Wh- what was _that_? What are you doing to me?” Tulip’s voice pitched higher, faster. Luz motioned for her to calm down.

“Healing glyphs.” Luz leaned back to sit cross-legged on the floor. “I know, it feels a little weird, but it’s a good weird. Once the feeling’s passed, you’ll be feeling fitter than a fiddle.”

“Glyphs?” Tulip paused, swallowing the word that just left her mouth. “Like… magic? Magic glyphs?”

“You know the line about Kansas and how you’re not in it anymore?”

Tulip stared blankly, then shrugged. “Well. Okay.”

But the way she shrugged must have grazed one of her bruises, because she flinched and hissed right after. Tulip gathered up a few healing glyphs that she’d pre-drawn beforehand. For minor wounds like these, the simpler ones should do. She gently coaxed Tulip’s arm closer and carefully laid a glyph over a bruise.

“It works like this, see? I put it on your wounds, and boop!” Luz tapped the glyph. The paper was converted to a deep blue healing wave. Tulip’s eyes went wide with wonder. The scars and bruises were gone within seconds. It never gets old. “All better. A few more should do it.”

“That’s incredible,” Tulip breathed, turning over the healed arm, taking in the spotless patch of skin.

Awww. That got Luz feeling a little bashful. “Thanks. I still have a lot-”

“No, this is _groundbreaking_.” 

“Eh?”

“You can cure wounds with just a piece of paper and a marker? Imagine the resources you could save! All the time and effort needed to make all these different bandages and ointments for all these different cuts or burns or welts, they can all be-!”

“Whoa, rein those snails in for a sec, Bill Nye.” Anne stepped forward and coaxed Tulip, firmly yet gently, to lie back down on the couch. Luz never noticed until now, but Anne had been hovering nearby the whole time, watching over them like a mother hen. She hadn’t even bothered untying the sack from her back. “Remember how you almost lost a race with an elephant from Hell?”

Tulip returned to a reclining position, her cheeks gaining this really cute shade of red that matched the hair framing her face. Luz promptly got to work healing the rest of her wounds, on her other arm, on her legs, on her back. Her ribs weren’t broken after all, thank god. Just more bruises, which were quickly taken care of. Luz wished she could do something about Tulip’s cracked glasses, though. She doubted her healing glyphs could work on glass. Maybe she could scour the other rooms tomorrow, see if she could find any glasses similar to Tulip’s.

Anne knelt beside Luz once she’s finished, so that she’s at eye level with Tulip.

“So? Better?” she asked.

“Much better.” Tulip nodded. And gifted them both a very cute, dimpled smile. “Thank you.”

Awww, she got a cute smile from a cute girl. What a great way to end the day. But Luz was only happy to help. Anne finally relaxed for the first time since she entered the room, too. She stood up to do an unwinding, full body stretch, which, good thing she did. Luz was getting worried she might end up burning the sack _still tied to her_ on the campfire.

“Hey, you want something to eat? I’m gonna make something. I’m kinda hungry.” Anne rambled, not really waiting for answer from Luz or Tulip.

Luz raised an eyebrow. She knew Anne had an appetite, but dang. “You already had dinner.”

“And it’s time for the sequel! Dinner 2: Munch Squad. Coming to a plate near you.” Anne marched off down the corridor towards the kitchen, still fully armored, still with that sack on her back.

Luz shook her head, and plopped down on the floor with her back to the couch. Nice of the calm to start settling again. Tulip seemed to be appreciating it too - really taking in her surroundings for the first time.

The apartment wasn’t much, but it’s still more than enough. They probably could have found a better place to take shelter in somewhere in the city, but the second Anne saw a dabbing building, there was nothing Luz could have done.

This living room was probably the biggest room in the apartment, so they tend to leave most of their stuff here. Luz’s things - meaning her papers, her pen and markers, her cape, and the owl staff - had all been shoved into one corner in the rush, so she set to work disentangling the mess. Anne’s pink backpack sat in a different corner, next to Tulip’s, and next to a sword and a crossbow - Sasha’s and Marcy’s. A couch and two easy chairs circled a low table, except Anne had thrown the table out, literally, out the window. In its place was a crackling fire pit, which, must be a little jarring to see in the middle of the living room. With no electricity, they had to do something about the heating, and the lighting. Orbs of light gently float near the ceiling of every room in the apartment.

Speaking of. Down the hallway, the door to the bedroom and bathroom stood opposite of each other. The bedroom has a double bed that you could just melt into, and though it’s a perfect fit for two, Luz and Anne rarely shared it, since Anne decided they should take their rest in turns. The bathroom has no running water because, again, no electricity, so they have to go to a water source nearby every few days. A little further down the hallway is a well-furnished kitchen, where the sounds of Anne’s early prep for a meal could be heard. The hallway led to a small balcony, overlooking a few smaller buildings and a dried up canal.

Yeah, all in all, not a bad spot.

“Luz?”

Luz blinked. Oh cramity, was Tulip trying to talk to her this whole time? “Hi, yes! Sorry, I kinda zoned out.”

“I-It’s okay. Um.” Tulip twiddled with the hem of her shirt. “So. Magic exists, huh?”

Luz reached for the owl staff. The comforting weight and feel of the wood on her fingers brought a smile to her lips. A smile that she shared with Tulip. “Believe it or not.”

“At this point? I’m willing to believe anything.” Tulip smiled too, but hers was more on the dry side. The light in her eyes flickered, like she just remembered something. “What about Anne, with her eyes? Is that magic too?”

Right. She’s seen the eyes too. Luz shrugged. “Guess so. Not the same kind of magic as mine, though.”

Luz bit the inside of her cheeks. It’s… a good thing Tulip brought up the eyes. She’d wanted to talk about it with someone, get a few things off her chest. Someone who wasn’t Anne. She stole a quick glance towards the corridor. Anne might still be a while getting the food ready. Might as well, right?

“It’s a… little unsettling, isn’t it?” she started, carefully, keeping her voice low. “Her eyes? When it gets all glowy like that?”

Tulip definitely noticed how she lowered her voice. Maybe even the nervous edge in them. “A little bit, I guess. Human eyes generally don’t glow, blue or otherwise,” she answered. “But I’m- hm. It doesn’t really bother me that much? Compared to… everything else I’ve seen. I think it’s kinda cool, actually.”

Yeah. Luz was ready for a response like that. She tried to play it cool with a nod. It really was a Luz problem, not no one else’s. Wasn’t Tulip’s fault for finding those glowing eyes of doom sexy and cool. Wasn’t Anne’s fault for having them. Wasn’t Anne’s fault for using them all the time considering how useful they were. Wasn’t Anne’s fault that those glowing blue eyes reminded Luz of feeling so small, so alone, standing under the twisting shadows of a cruel tyrant.

“Luz!” Luz dang near jumped out of her own skin suddenly hearing Anne’s voice. “The stove?”

“Oh, right!” Luz rose to her feet, swiped a fire glyph from the pile, and placed the owl staff against the wall. She shot a glance back at Tulip as she left the room. “I’ll be back in just a sec, okay?”

Anne’s back was to her as Luz entered the kitchen, chopping away at the counter. She’s still wearing her armor, because of course she was. At least she’s untied the sack and left it in the corner. Seeing her right now, no one in their right mind would ever compare this kind, courageous, best mom friend of a girl with something as heinous as Belos.

Anne heard Luz approach and wordlessly raised a frying pan towards her. Luz pressed the fire glyph against the bottom of the pan and tapped it. The surface heated up and hissed immediately. Real nice how all of the apartments here came with a pretty complete set of cooking appliances, including stoves. Electric stoves.

“ _Gracias_ ,” Anne muttered as she set the pan down.

“ _Mai pen rai Ka_.” Luz smiled, giving Anne’s pauldron a tap. “Gonna take your armor off sometime tonight, o brave knight?”

Anne looked down on herself with surprise. “Oh, wow, yeah, I’m still wearing it.” Her attention quickly returned to the food. “I’ll… do it after. This is sizzling real nice.”

Luz rolled her eyes, but internally. She knew better than to get between Anne and her cooking. She simply gave Anne a knowing pat on the back as she left the kitchen. Yeah. The eyes were where the similarities began and ended. It was strictly a Luz problem.

Luz paused at the doorway upon returning to the living room. Tulip had sat up a little straighter, eyes locked on the owl staff, clearly admiring it. Luz crossed her arms, leaned against the doorframe, and curled her lips into smug smile. Yes. This is a cool pose.

“Pretty cool staff, right?”

Tulip glanced at her for a split second. “It is. The owl carving at the top is very… distinct,” she observed. “Is it yours?”

Luz’s smile flickered. Her breathing wavered. Good thing Tulip wasn’t paying attention. “No. It’s my mentor’s. I’m just keeping it safe for now.”

“Your mentor?”

Luz struck a pose with both hands on her hips. She’d like to imagine a dramatic wind would blow any second now. “Tulip, you’re standing before a bona fide witch apprentice of the Owl Lady herself,” she boasted. “Well. _Sitting_ before.”

“None of that meant anything to me. No offense.” Tulip’s stare was mostly blank, but the glint of amusement in them was unmistakable.

“Buzzkill,” Luz blew a raspberry, but it was in good fun. “The point is, the staff is important. It’s my responsibility until… well, until we at least get outta here.”

Tulip leaned back to sink into the cushions, sighing as she craned her head to face the ceiling. “ _If_ we get out of here.”

“Hey, hey.” Luz crossed her arms, borrowing Anne’s patented Look. “You’re new here, so I’m letting that one slide, but we don’t tolerate that kind of negativity in this shelter.”

A heavy breath escaped Tulip. Her attention remained on the orbs floating near the ceiling. That won’t do. Luz crossed the living room and sat beside Tulip on the couch.

“Tulip, look at me.” She seized both of Tulip’s shoulders. Tulip was caught off guard, but her eyes still met Luz’s. Luz leaned forward until the tips of their noses were inches apart, allowing Tulip to see deep in her eyes, feel the determination and resolve shining within. “Repeat after me: we’re going to figure out a way out of here together.”

Maybe Luz shouldn’t have been so forward, because Tulip was blushing up a storm, but dang it, she couldn’t bear to see this poor girl in despair. After a few coughs and a few inches of extra distance, Tulip’s lips curled into a lopsided smile as she repeated, “We’re going to figure out a way out of here together.”

Luz smiled too. That’s better. Smiles all around. She released her grip on Tulip’s shoulders and leaned back. Let Tulip get her personal space back.

“And we’ll find your friends too. I guarantee it.”

Tulip immediately made an odd grimacing expression. Uh oh. Did she say something bad?

“Yeah, about that.” Tulip rubbed the back of her neck. “I, uh. I came here alone.”

Luz blinked. Did she hear that right? “Wait, really? Like, _alone_ alone?”

Tulip nodded. Whoa. That’s a first. That’s a clue.

“I’m guessing you ended up here with friends too, like Anne.”

So Anne already told Tulip about her own missing friends. It was Luz’s turn to nod. “Yeah. It was me, and my friend Willow, and… Amity.”

Luz couldn’t keep herself from frowning, thinking back. Things were going so well. Everything settled down, the Boiling Isles was free, and she finally got the portal back. She could finally go home. She even convinced Willow and Amity to come, said they deserve a break after everything that’s happened. Said it was her turn to show them her world. But she ended up here, and Willow and Amity were dragged here with her, and now they’re missing, and she had no idea where they were, and she had no idea where to even start looking. All because she wanted to show the human world to her friend and… friend. Girl. Friend.

Cramity, she’s still getting used to that.

“And the three of you were separated too,” Tulip finished for her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Luz exhaled, letting the light in her eyes dim. Battered, tired Tulip shouldn’t be the one doing the consoling, but the comforting words still felt good to hear. For a long moment, the only sound to be heard was the sizzle of Anne’s cooking from the kitchen.

Willow and Amity. Sasha and Marcy. They’re out there, somewhere, on this strange new world. Waiting to be found. Waiting to be saved.

Luz stared into the crackling, shifting flames of the fire pit. The stare hardened, the fire in her heart bursting back to life. The light of resolve behind her eyes shined brighter than the sun.

“We’ll find them all, and we’ll find a way home. That’s a promise.”

* * *

“Order up!”

Anne’s timing couldn’t be better. Luz had just started to hear the distinct rumble of an empty stomach, which Tulip insisted wasn’t hers. Anne entered the room - still armored, of course - with a steaming bowl on each hand. The wafting smell quickly filled the room, and Luz wasn’t ashamed to admit it got her mouth to water just a little bit. Anne crossed the room to hand Tulip a bowl before plopping down against the opposite wall with her own bowl.

The smell made Tulip eager to accept the bowl, but that enthusiasm didn’t last long. Not that Luz could blame her. The contents of the bowl consisted of nothing more than misshapen chunks of black _stuff_ \- she had to assume it’s some kind of meat - that’s been glazed with a gravy-like substance colored even darker.

“Um. What is this, exactly?” Tulip asked slowly, clearly trying to be polite, bless her.

Luz shouldn’t snort, but she couldn’t help it. “Your first mistake is asking.” She’d long since resigned herself to Anne’s whims when it comes to eating. Whatever the food was, Anne’s good for it.

“ _Excuse me_ for not making it look pretty.” Anne was already chewing a mouthful of the stuff. “Just chow down. It’s good.”

Tulip stared down at the bowl in her lap. Must be a weird disconnect for her head. The smell was strong yet appetizing, but the appearance was anything but. Tulip scooped a spoonful of chunks, lifted the spoon into her mouth, and chewed. And a three, and a two, and…

“Oh!” It was like lightning had struck the girl. Her eyes were alight, stars dancing in her pupils. “Oh, _wow_. This is amazing.”

Anne had the courtesy to do a full body bow. “You’re welcome.”

Tulip wasted no time scooping a second spoonful into her mouth, followed by a third, then a fourth. Anne ate at a much slower pace, but anyone could easily see that she’d worked up an appetite. And Luz was kinda starting to regret not joining in.

The room was silent except for the crinkle of flames and the tinkling of silverware against ceramic. Even that started to die down as Anne and Tulip finished their meals. Now’s a good time as any to continue the conversation, right?

“So. Tulip,” Luz began. “What’s your story? How’d you end up here?”

Tulip didn’t answer right away. Or a minute after. Or even two minutes. Her fingers idly fiddled with the spoon in the empty bowl as gears grinded in her head. She’s choosing her words, and she’s doing it very carefully.

“I was stuck on a train. A really, really weird train. I think… it travels between dimensions, or something.”

Both Luz and Anne nearly left the floor like a pair of loaded springs. _Wow_. Just when she thought she’d heard everything.

“T- _Travel between dimensions_?!”

“Yeah. I think? I’m not exactly sure how it works.” Another pause, stretching just a little too long. “Uh, anyway. It took a while, but I finally found a way off of it. But instead of going home, I ended up here.”

“What’s this train like? Where’d it come from? Where’s it heading?” The questions spilled out of Luz’s mouth with the strength and speed of a waterfall. The fuse has been lit. Luz was curious before, but now she’s _deeply_ invested.

“It’s, uh, big. Really big. I don’t know where it came from. Don’t know if it’s heading to anywhere in particular. I don’t think it is. It’s just… going.”

Luz didn’t need any divination glyph to know that Tulip was holding back on all the juicy details. “Were you alone? Was there anyone else onboard? Did you meet them?”

“I guess there were. Other people. Maybe.” Tulip’s answers were getting awfully short and clipped.

Luz cocked her head. She knew exactly what’s happening here. She scooted closer to Tulip and placed a comforting hand on her thigh. “Tulip, it’s okay. You’re safe here. I know we literally just met, but we’re all friends here. There is _nothing_ you can say that’ll weird us out.”

Tulip stared at the hand on her thigh, then at Luz. Her eyes were still clouded with doubt. Maybe she just needed one more push. “Come on. How long did you stay on that train? How did you manage to get off? Does this train have name?” Luz asked and asked and asked. “How’d you even end up on it in the first place?”

“ _Luz_.” Anne’s voice broke through the stream of questions, stern and a little scary. Luz didn’t need to turn to know that she’s giving her that Look. “We all came here with a story. Some parts of it, you just don’t want people to know.”

Luz cringed at herself for not noticing it sooner. Tulip had been slowly shrinking further into herself with every question thrown at her. “Thanks, Anne,” the poor girl mumbled, relieved.

Luz removed her hand from Tulip’s thigh. Right. Boundaries.

Anne set her bowl aside and rose to her feet. “Welp. It’s been a long night, especially for you, Tulip. Won a race against that beastie, and you’re still alive. I’d say the best way to celebrate is by getting a good night’s sleep,” she said, circling the fire pit. “C’mere, I’ll carry you to the bed.”

“Oh, no, I can just sleep here, you’ve already- _okay we’re doing this again_.”

Tulip had no way of stopping Anne from lifting her up in her strong, beefy arms. “Dude, it’s fine. The bed’s big enough for two, and someone’s gonna stay up to keep watch anyway. No guest of ours is spending the night on the couch.”

Luz led the way and opened the door to the bedroom for Anne and Tulip to squeeze through. Anne laid Tulip down on the right side of the bed and adjusted the pillow for her. She even helped Tulip take off her boots, placing it by the bed. Luz couldn’t keep herself from smiling, watching it unfold. Anne wasn’t simply a mom friend. She’s _the_ mom friend.

“I’m gonna go clean up,” Anne said as she passed Luz to leave the room. “Get plenty of sleep, Tulip.”

“Night, mom.”

“Wasn’t talking to you, weeb.”

Luz chuckled as she sat down on the other side of the bed. She pulled out her phone from inside the bedside table and turned to look at Tulip. “Need something to help you sleep? I’ve got, let’s see… some Spanish lullabies, some great anime openings, ievan polkka remixes, and caramelldansen but it sounds like it’s coming from another room.”

“I’m barely hanging on right now. I’m gonna pass out just fine,” Tulip breathed her answer as she rubbed her eyes. Luz never noticed the bags under her eyes, but now that she did, it was impossible to ignore.

“Well, your loss.” Luz put her phone back in the bedside table. A few quiet moments passed, with Luz simply watching Tulip shifting about, fixing her unruly hair, trying to get comfortable. One of the light orbs near the ceiling blinked out of existence. 

“Sorry for being pushy before,” Luz began. It’s going to ear her up if she left it alone, so she might as well settle it now. “I’ve been told I have problems with boundaries.”

Tulip turned her head to look at Luz and… didn’t quite smile. She’s too tired to smile, but she’s trying. “It’s fine. Really. I get it. You’re curious. I’m curious too. About a lot of things.” She stared upward, but her eyes weren’t looking at the ceiling. Her eyes were lost in her own memories. “It… almost got the better of me, sometimes. I get… tunnel vision. Suddenly, an answer is the only thing that matters.”

Luz opened her mouth, but no word left her. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t that. How old was this girl again? “Maybe you could give me some pointers,” she eventually said.

“I’m not great yet, but I’ll do my best.” Her eyes were closed now. Tulip didn’t see the grateful smile forming on Luz’s lips.

Everyone really did come with a story.

Luz got off of the bed. There were still things she needed to do before ending the day. “If you need anything, just say so. I’m sure mom’ll come running.”

Tulip laughed. Was that the first time she heard Tulip laugh? It was a lovely laugh.

“Good night, Tulip.”

“Night, Luz.”

Luz slipped out of the room as quietly as she could. The door clicked as it closed behind her. Now, she should tidy up her mess in the living room, or patch up Tulip’s jacket, or modify the warding glyph on the front door so that it’ll allow Tulip passage too. But instead, she found herself following the sound of gentle, splashing water to the kitchen.

Anne was at the sink, cleaning the dishes and the remnants of her cooking, not yet noticing Luz at the doorway. With no water running, the tap was basically useless, so they’d set up a small bucket of clean water next to the sink to clean with. Luz was not at all surprised to see this wild girl washing up still in her armor. It was as if the armor was a second skin for her.

Alright, Luz has given Anne plenty of opportunities. Time to take matters into her own hands.

Luz crossed the room and slipped her arms around Anne, reaching for the clasps on her front first. Anne made a funny _squeak_ as she felt hands suddenly on her, but she relaxed as she realized what Luz was trying to do. She even helped undo a few of the clasps, and moved accordingly as Luz began removing parts of her armor, until Anne was left with only her tattered school uniform. Luz placed the armor set down beside the counter for now. She knew Anne preferred to handle her gear herself.

“I was just about to take it off, I swear,” Anne claimed.

“Mhm. Sure you were.” Luz reached up and plucked a leaf out of Anne’s hair. Anne groaned as she saw the leaf flutter to the floor.

“Oh my _god_ ,” she groused, shaking her hair until it was clear of debris. Mostly. You never know what could be in those locks. She fixed Luz with a tired pout. “What’re the chances that you know how to give someone a haircut?”

“Everyone technically can. S’just gonna look awful.” Luz’s mind wandered back to the time she let King try and give her a haircut. Boy, was that a mistake. “But even if I know, I wouldn’t do it to you. Your hair looks great.”

“Where were you in fifth grade?” Anne mumbled, the smile on her lips tinged with sadness. Luz could ask Anne the same thing.

“It’s been a long night for you too, Anne. Using your powers take a lot out of you, right? Get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.” Luz pointed a knowing finger to Anne’s face right as she opened her mouth to speak. “And don’t you even try talking your way out of this. It’s my shift and you know it.”

“Who’s the mom now?” Anne rolled her eyes, but Luz knew that she’d won. “Alright. Let me finish cleaning up.”

The gentle sounds of lapping water continued as Luz paused at the kitchen doorway. Her eyes lingered on the bedroom door for a moment, before she turned back to the kitchen. “Did you know Tulip came here all alone?”

“Yeah. First time that happened.” Anne hung a clean pan on the wall to dry as she glanced over her shoulder. “You think that’s something worth looking into?”

“Could be. Could be it’s just a huge coincidence that the two of us came here with friends.”

“Three.”

Oh, really? Three? Luz had her suspicions, but that essentially confirmed it. “You know, good thing you brought that up,” she said, standing behind Anne with her arms crossed. “Let’s talk about how you were out in the jungle this late at night.”

“Here we go,” Anne muttered after she blew a breath. She turned around, facing Luz eye to eye. “I was just looking for some fresh air.”

“You couldn’t find fresh air in the city?”

Anne’s pause was brief, but very noticeable. “I wanted the jungle kind of fresh air.”

The jungle kind of fresh air. In a way, Luz was disappointed. She’s heard better excuses coming from Anne. It’s obvious now what happened. Anne ventured into the jungle with a very specific goal. A flash of red hair caught Anne’s eye, and she followed that trail until it led her to finding and saving Tulip. Only problem was, Tulip wasn’t the redhead that Anne was looking for.

“You were trying to find Twelve again, weren’t you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another addition to the roster?
> 
> I keep doing this to myself. I mean, I guess I knew going in that this chapter is going to be quite long. My first estimate was, like, 3.5k words or something. But then I go off, and suddenly it’s longer than the previous two chapters combined. Eh, whatever. My loss is your gain.
> 
> This is my first time really writing Luz. I’ve written drabbles with her in it before, but they were just dumb jokes and very short. This one’s more serious and way longer. So, so much longer. The TOH writers have done a great job putting a lot of amazing nuances to her character. I can only hope my take is at the very least can be decently compared to theirs. I’m not exactly asking y’all to be nice to me, but uh. Yeah.
> 
> Next up, it’s a new day for the girls. See you then!
> 
> If y’all want to follow my writing and any other random stuff that I get up to, check out my tumblr right [here](https://chronicler-of-legends.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> EDIT: Now with amazing art made by the incredible Spotty-Bee! Check out more of their stuff right [here](https://spotty-bee.tumblr.com)!


	4. Accuse

Warmth. That’s the first sensation Tulip felt enveloping her upon waking up, before her eyes even opened. The kind of warmth you’d feel by wrapping a big, thick, cushy blanket around yourself in a rainy night, but better. Infinitely better. And oddly familiar. The warmth would have lulled her back to sleep, and it nearly did, until she felt warm air tickling the back of her neck.

Her eyes snapped open. The events of the previous night came flooding back. The chase with the beast. Getting saved by Anne. The city of human buildings. Luz and her magic glyphs. Eating the best meal she’s had in months. Lying down on a bed sent straight from heaven.

She’s still there, on that bed, lying on her side. It was all real. So was the night stand by the bed, the earthy brown wallpaper covering the walls of the bedroom, and the orbs of light floating near the ceiling at the edge of her vision. So were her pale arms, free from any scars or bruises. So were the other pair of arms, darker and bigger than hers, extending from somewhere behind her to wrap her in a loose hug.

Warm air tickled her neck again. Breathing. It was someone’s breathing.

Tulip craned her neck around, slowly, until she caught a glimpse of a wild mass of brown, unruly hair. Oh.

Heat rapidly gathered at Tulip’s cheeks. How quickly she went from touch-starved to touch-bloated. She wouldn’t say she hated the situation - far from it - but after getting carried around all night by Anne, Luz’s hands-on ministrations of the healing glyphs, and now this, it was all too much for her heart to handle. At least, this woke her up better than a cup of coffee ever did.

She should get up. Yeah, that’s a good idea.

Tulip scooted forward ever so slightly, keeping her pace slow so as to not disturb Anne’s slumber. She softly nudged Anne’s right arm off of her once it impeded her progress and tried not to miss how warm it felt. But Anne mumbled some incoherent phrase, and Tulip froze, and was too slow to move out of the way when Anne’s arm returned, wrapping around Tulip and dragging her closer until her back was pressing against Anne’s chest. It took everything within Tulip to keep her noise limited to a _squeak_ , now trapped in a tighter hug than before.

Well. Okay.

This is fine.

Once steam had stopped fuming from her ears and her heart stopped beating a million miles an hour, Tulip tried again. She’s faster this time, and used more force, moving to the edge of the bed until she freed herself from Anne’s limbs. Anne shifted to lie on her back, her lips mumbling nonsense, eyes fluttering for a moment, before she returned to deep slumber. Tulip breathed out. Let a few more moments pass for her heart to settle.

Tulip sat up on the edge of the bed. A hiss escaped her as the tips of her toes touched down on the cold, ceramic floor. Her boots were left at the foot of the bed, and she briefly thought of slipping it on to avoid the cold floor, but decided against it. She’d experienced far worse than literal cold feet, and she doubted putting on her sodden, mud-caked boots would be an improvement.

Going barefoot certainly made it easier to reach the door without making a sound. Opening the door produced little more than a _click_ and a rustle from a slight breeze. Tulip quickly slipped outside and closed the door behind her. She would rather not disturb Anne’s rest any more than she already has.

It felt good to be standing on her own two feet again, after spending most of last night being carried around from one place to another, as she took in her surroundings. The apartment looked the same as what little she saw the night before. Biggest difference was the lack of light orbs everywhere. The faint smell of smoke lingered in the air, emanating from the living room down the corridor to her right. Morning sunlight streaked through the apartment from the glass sliding doors to her left, which lead to a small balcony, currently occupied. Luz was sitting on the railing, her back to Tulip, staring into the distance with her feet dangling over the edge. Her staff was placed nearby, leaning against the railing.

Luz must have heard the door clicking open, or the shuffling of Tulip’s feet on wood, because she turned immediately, and greeted Tulip with a smile. “Oh, hey! Good morning, Tulip.”

“M-morning.” Tulip immediately clamped her mouth shut. She didn’t expect to stumble over her words like that. Maybe she wasn’t as calm as she thought she was.

“Hope you had a good sleep.” Luz pivoted in place, vaulting her legs over the railing. “ _Cómo estás_? How you feeling?”

Embarrassed. Flustered. A little cold? “Good,” she said instead. “Mhm. Yeah. Peachy.”

Luz slid down the railing and skipped through the glass doors, picking up her staff along the way. Her head tilted to one side, seeing past the (obvious) lie. “You sure? Is everything okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Tulip reassured. Despite the now-familiar warmth creeping back to her cheeks, she didn’t want Luz to think something actually bad was bothering her. “It’s just, um- Anne was- she’s, um-”

Luz’s eyes widened ever so slightly. There’s a weird look of understanding and… pity? Aimed at Tulip. “Oh no, did she drool on you? That happened to me once.”

“No, n-no,” Tulip quickly said, and paused. She never actually checked. A discrete pat-down of her neck and back produced no suspicious wet patches. “Nope. She didn’t.”

“She’s, uh. She was hugging me. When I woke up.” She must be blushing now, no doubt about it. Where was this coming from? She’s pretty sure she’d blushed more in the last twelve hours than she did in the past five months. “Wasn’t, uh. Wasn’t really expecting that.”

“Yeah, she does that. She likes being the big spoon.” Luz smiled, a fond smile, retrieved from first-hand experience. In a weird way, Tulip felt comforted to not be alone in that regard.

“Weird, right? _Everyone_ likes being the little spoon.” Luz lowered her head conspiratorially and waggled her eyebrows. “Not that I’m complaining, know what I mean?”

Oh, my. Tulip bit back a smile, shyly averting her gaze to a power socket on the wall. Anne just has that effect on people, it seemed. “I think I do.”

Luz’s smile grew wider, more mischievous, seeing it. “I’d offer you breakfast, but that’s gonna have to wait until Anne’s up. In the meantime, if you wanna wash up, the bathroom’s all yours. Already heated some water for ya. Unless you like your showers cold?”

Tulip’s jaw dropped. A shower? With _hot water_? The offer sounded too good to be true. The opportunity to wash herself came few and far in between on the train - she recalled the longest she went without one was nearly twenty straight days - and none of those opportunities ever included something as luxurious as _heated water_. One of the many things she took for granted back in North Branch.

The shock eventually passed her enough so she could actually say, “I’ll take the hot water, thanks.”

Luz spun the staff in her hand, hooking one end on the bathroom’s door handle, pulled down, and let the door swing open. Tulip watched Luz easily return the staff to her side, handling the object with the grace and dexterity of someone who must have spent months or perhaps even years honing the skill. Something looked a little off about the staff itself, though. She could have sworn an owl carving formed the head of the staff when she saw it last night.

“ _Toda suya_. All yours.”

But the thought was quickly abandoned. The sight of a bucket filled with clean, warm water in the shower cubicle, a light trail of steam heading to the ceiling, was like finding the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Tulip eagerly stepped inside, and swung the door shut behind her with maybe a little too much force. A giggle sang from the other side of the door, and she found herself blushing again.

* * *

The warm water did wonders for her body, her mind, she’s not hesitant to say even her soul. There were actual soap and shampoo available for her to use, too. The one-use sachets she packed with her when she left home had long since run out during her first month on the train. Yet another luxury that she’ll never take for granted again. Stepping out of the shower cubicle with a puff of steam, Tulip felt refreshed, her mind sharper, and she certainly smelled better than she’d ever been in a long time. 

A short, not-quite laugh escaped Tulip’s lips after she slipped on her white shirt and grey skirt and tights. What were the chances? She honestly wanted to know. Stuck in yet another other world, only to fall into the embrace of the two kindest people she’s ever met. Anne and Luz eagerly accepted her - a complete stranger - into their shelter, healed all of her wounds, fed her, let her sleep on their bed, and now, this. All without expecting anything in return. One in a million didn’t feel enough. One in a billion felt closer, but not quite.

A wave of guilt seeped into her heart for barely answering their questions at all last night, and a second, smaller wave followed, for needing to have Anne save her again. Maybe that could be her way of repaying them. Not every question, but some. Some that she’s ready to answer.

Tulip turned to the sink and actually laughed this time, noticing three toothbrushes on the counter, each with a label - an ‘A’, ‘L’, and ‘T’. She picked the one labeled ‘T’, used some leftover water from the bucket to wet the brush, wiped the condensation from the mirror, and stared face to face with the wall behind her.

Oh. Yeah. That happened. Wonder how she’s doing now. Hopefully well, wherever she is on the train.

Three quick knocks came from the bathroom door. “You decent?” Luz’s muffled voice asked from the other side.

“I’m good. Come in.”

The door swung open and Luz poked her head in, eyes squinting through the leftover steam. “Soooo, I don’t know if you even wanna keep your jacket, and I’m not saying I’m at all great at sewing, but I tried to patch it up. I _think_ I did an okay job? But you be the judge.”

Luz tossed a bundle of fabric at Tulip which she easily caught. She let it unfurl, revealing her well-worn jacket, patched up like Luz said. Some of the stitching was rough, here and there, but it was miles better than the state it was in after her chase through the jungle. “This is-” Tulip swallowed a happy sob and more than a few tears of joy. Yet another act of kindness. “You did amazing, Luz. Thank you.”

“Aw, shucks. Just needed something to do while I’m keeping watch.” Red stained Luz’s cheeks, and something like pride swelled in Tulip’s chest over being on the giving end of a blush for a change.

Tulip yanked the zipper down, and had to stop herself from slipping the jacket on too fast, lest she end up ruining Luz’s hard work, keeping her motions slow and careful. Immediately, it felt good. It felt right. Was it strange to be so attached to a jacket? She’s been wearing it for so long, it’s almost a part of her now.

“Also! Noticed your hair kinda kept bothering you, so I went through the other rooms and I found some spare hair ti-”

Tulip was too preoccupied with the sensation of the jacket back around her body, that she didn’t notice at first, how Luz stopped midsentence. How Luz stared ahead, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. When she did, she was confused, because Luz wasn’t even looking at her. She followed the line of Luz’s gaze.

To the mirror.

Oh. Oh _crap_.

“Uh.”

Tulip stepped forward. “I can explain-”

“ _Uhhh_!”

Luz scrambled away from the bathroom until her back hit the bedroom door. When Tulip stepped out of the bathroom, hands raised diplomatically, Luz backed away again, scraping against the wall in the direction of the balcony, her staff now in hand.

“W-wait! Wait! I know this kinda looks bad, but-”

Luz raised the staff defensively between her and Tulip. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! You- you hold it! You stay where you are!”

“Luz, I promise you, it’s not what you think!”

The sound of a door opening came from behind Tulip, followed by padded footsteps against ceramic. “Wozzat? S’with all the screaming?” Anne mumbled, alarmed and on edge, but still blinking away the sleep in her eyes.

Luz was faster than Tulip on the draw. “Anne, Tulip’s a vampire!”

There was a long beat, Anne blinking once, twice, her head slowly tilting to one side, all but asking if she heard that right. “…what?”

“I’m- I’m not-”

“I saw it! In the bathroom! She doesn’t have a reflection!” Luz pointed frantically at the bathroom door left ajar, the last of the steam trailing away.

It was tiny, and probably didn’t mean anything, but something in Tulip’s chest ached when Anne shifted her left foot behind her right. “Tulip? That true?”

“Yes, it’s true. I don’t have a reflection anymore. But it’s not because I’m a vampire!” Tulip groaned into her clammy palms. This was the absolute worst way for them to find out.

“The train that I told you about last night. The one I was stuck on. When I said it’s weird, I _mean it_.” Her head flipped back and forth between a guarded Anne and an alarmed Luz. “There’s a car with talking corgis. There’s a car that’s literally a giant crossword puzzle. There’s a car filled with, just, ducks!” 

“The point is, I am _not_ a vampire.” But were her words even worth anything? Evidence. They need hard evidence. “I’ll prove it! I’ll step out into the sunlight. If there’s a cross anywhere, feel free to shove it in my face. If you have any garlic, I’ll eat it. Raw.”

“That’s… please don’t eat raw garlic.” The concern in Anne’s voice was real, familiar, and far more preferable than the cautious tone from earlier. “Tulip, if you say there’s an explanation… then I believe you.”

Tulip didn’t remember when she started holding her breath. Her chest felt lighter, being able to breathe freely again. Saved by Anne, once more.

Anne’s gaze moved to somewhere over Tulip’s shoulder. “So drop the staff, Luz. It’s too early to be bonking people in the head.” The gaze hardened, and her reluctance to do so was apparent. “And apologize. For freaking out like that, and scaring Tulip.”

Tulip turned to face Luz, who’s trying her best to hide behind her staff. “I… that might’ve been a little too much,” she gritted out. Luz hated that she had to say that. A lot. “Sorry.”

“It’s…” Fine? Nothing? What was Tulip trying to say? What was there _to_ say? “…I get it. I’m sorry too, I guess.”

A beat passed, with Tulip never been more aware of the fact that, despite everything Anne and Luz had done for her, they were complete strangers to her, and she’s a stranger to them.

Anne broke the silence with a hum from the back of her throat. “Okay. Look. How’s about we… talk this out over breakfast, hm?

Neither Tulip nor Luz said a word, but they both gave a slow nod.

“Good. So, I’ll just, uh.” Anne pointed a stilted finger towards the kitchen. “Breakfast.”

* * *

Luz did end up handing Tulip that hair tie, when they sat down around the dead fire pit in the living room. Tulip accepted the hair tie, mumbled a thanks, bundled up her hair behind her, and tied it off in a ponytail. Just like that, she felt complete. Ready for whatever comes next.

Breakfast came next. Anne entered the room with three steaming bowls in hand. More of the meat and gravy dish from dinner, which Tulip didn’t mind at all. Still the second best meal she’s had in a while. Anne sat down at the same spot from last night. A silent look from her as she raised a spoon to her mouth told Tulip, to start whenever she’s ready. Tulip scooped a spoonful of meat and shoved it in her mouth, savoring every bite. God, that’s good.

Okay. Tulip began.

Her dumb decision to walk all the way to Oshkosh in the middle of winter. Stumbling across the train. Her first encounter with One-One. The Cat. Atticus and Corginia. The Chrome Car, where she met, clashed, and eventually befriended her own reflection, and helped her escape the mirror world to become her own person. The fake Conductor, and the true Conductor. Saying her final farewell to One-One and Atticus. Stepping through the exit, only to end up here. It really only dawned on her now, after she’s laid it out bare, just how bizarre her adventure had been.

It really only dawned on her now, just how much was weighing down her chest. She felt so light afterwards, like she’s floating. It was… relieving.

Some things, she left out. The divorce, those awful dog-sized cockroach creatures, Atticus turning into one of them, was among the few. Either she didn’t want to upset Anne and Luz (the creatures), she wasn’t ready to talk about it (the divorce), or both (Atticus). Something told her they knew, and understood, and respected that decision. They had stories they weren’t ready to tell too.

The tension from earlier slowly melted with every sentence leaving Tulip’s lips. Anne and Luz - _especially_ Luz - leaned forward in their seats, completely absorbed, hanging on to every word of Tulip’s story. Jokes even started to bounce between the three (“You had to _sing_?” “We _have_ to hear you sing now.” “…you don’t, trust me.”). Laughs, too. She remembered this, this warm feeling filling her chest, from another life in a different world.

Wonder how Mikayla’s doing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Anne cut in as Tulip was reiterating the details of her time in the Chrome Car, eyes narrowing, “so does this chrome car bring reflections to life? Or is our reflection’s been sentient this entire time?”

“I think… it’s a bit of both?”

Luz hummed with a blank smile. “That’s one more thing to keep me up at night.”

All Tulip could offer was an awkward chuckle. Hope they don’t become afraid of mirrors or anything.

“And the numbers.” Luz’s voice pitched lower. The light behind her eyes… it made no sense, but it shined brighter and darker. It was the only way Tulip could describe what she saw. “How does the train, just, _decide_ what number to give you?”

Sometimes, Tulip wondered if she should’ve stayed on the train a little longer, to ask these questions herself. But would One-One even give her the answer? “I don’t have an answer to that.”

“…feels so wrong.” Luz set her empty bowl down and pulled her knees to her chest. “Giving a number to… feelings. And problems. And how life works.”

Was it? Numbers are easy to understand, easy to figure out. As much frustration as the number gave her during her early days on the train, it still gave her a clear goal. She shuddered to think what her time on the train would have been like if she didn’t have the numbers. She might never have gotten her exit. She wouldn’t mind if more things in life had numbers assigned to them.

“Sounds like you and I are the same, Tulip,” Anne said, not letting silence settle. “Got zapped off to another world without really having a say about it.” She elbowed Luz’s side with a smirk. “Unlike _this_ mad lass.”

Luz lurched with a wheeze. That… looked like it actually hurt. “Yeah, well. I _did_ lose my only way home for a while, so I ended up stuck anyway.” She cringed a smile, surreptitiously rubbing the spot where Anne struck her. “I still get to be a part of the isekai club.”

That confirmed something Tulip had suspected from the things they said to her and each other, their little remarks, the way they treat one another. Anne and Luz had been to worlds entirely different from the train, and from each other. And who’s to say it stopped there? Who’s to say the Earth they each came from was even the same Earth?

There are billions and billions of planets, stars, galaxies in the universe. How many worlds could possibly exist in a _multiverse_?

Oh, Anne and Luz shot glances at each other, in a conversation without words. Maybe this question can be shelved for another time.

“Y’know, since Tulip’s told us her story, s’only fair we return the favor, right?” Anne finally voiced the result.

“It’s only fair,” Luz agreed.

An eager smile made its way to Tulip’s lips before she could control herself. She bit her lip, shrinking into herself in a futile attempt to save face. “Only if you’re okay with telling it.”

“We’re _happy_ to share it with you, Tulip.” The amusement in Luz’s voice was apparent, but her words still eased Tulip’s heart. “I’ll start.”

Luz rose to her feet, staff in hand, and… struck a pose? A hand pressed to her chest, fingers closed to a fist, with her eyes shut, head tilted at a slight angle, and her expression somber. To the side, Anne rolled her eyes, trying to hold back a grin and failing miserably. What’s happening now?

“My story began like many stories do: with a fourteen year old girl mucking things up just a _liiiitle_ too much at school. Alas, the girl’s mother decided enough was enough, and sent her off to one of the most vile, most desolate place in the world, where she’ll be forced to conform and follow the rules or some crap.”

“Dude, it’s a summer camp.”

“Hush, interloper! It’s stuffy, miserable, and all kinds of problematic!” The threatening finger pointing between Anne’s eyes only drew an amused laugh from her. Luz quickly reassumed the stance of an esteemed storyteller. “Call it luck, or a twist of fate, but before the girl could board the bus that will send her to her doom, the cutest little owl nabbed her favorite Azura book and led her to a mysterious demon door, a gateway to a world known as… _the Boiling Isles_.”

With a flourish of her hands, a cluster of light orbs took to the air like a swarm of fireflies, casting the room in its gentle, twinkling light. Tulip watched with slack jaws as the orbs, initially floating at random, began to move, converge, and eventually settle, forming a rough silhouette of what must be, she surmised, the Boiling Isles.

Anne blinked once, twice, before asking, “Where’d you pull all that paper?”

Luz continued as if she heard nothing. “A magical society of witches and witchcraft built upon the corpse of a long dead Titan. A land ruled by an oppressive emperor with just the most rancid vibes, and fraught by danger at every turn. It was not at all the PG fantasy experience that the girl has always wanted. Luckily, she quickly found herself under the care of none other than Eda the Owl Lady, the-!”

“ _Most powerful witch of the Boiling Isles_!” Anne swiftly returned to her regular sitting position with a mockingly sweet smile on her face, acting as if she wasn’t just mimicking Luz’s dramatic pose and that Luz didn’t spot the tail end of her performance.

Luz looked annoyed, but something told Tulip she actually wasn’t. Luz knew Anne’s game, very much amused by it, and looking annoyed was how she played along. “Oh, you laugh now. Wait till I do it ten times when it’s your turn.”

“Looking forward to it.”

“Now, where was-? Right.” Luz cleared her throat and let the actress within her take over again. “The girl lived under Eda’s roof for a time, learning what she can under the Owl Lady’s somewhat mediocre tutelage. But that wasn’t enough for the girl! Her thirst for magical knowledge was _insatiable_ , and that thirst eventually led her to the front doors of… _Hexside School of Magic and Demonics_!” 

“You’re wasting paper.”

Luz’s hands were halfway through the motion of another flourish when Anne’s words stopped them dead in their tracks. Luz shot a blank-faced Anne a severe look, before releasing the orbs of light anyway. They never broke eye contact.

Like before, the orbs swam aimlessly in the air for a moment, before moving in unison like it’s gained a mind of its own. This time, it formed into some kind of emblem that Tulip was not familiar with. Must be the symbol for this Hexside place.

“Within the halls of this magic academy, the girl further deepened her study of magic, even becoming the first in Hexside’s history to study in all nine major Coven tracks at once! But academia wasn’t the only thing the girl had to worry about, as she found herself embroiled in the kind of high stakes social drama you could only find in your typical magic academy. She formed bonds of friendship, encountered some real annoying rivals, and even experienced-” Luz suddenly stopped, almost like she choked, the words she meant to say clogging up her windpipe, as her cheeks rapidly gained a shade of red, “m-more friendship. Yeah.”

Luz pressed a closed knuckle against her lips under the pretense of coughing and clearing her throat, but it wasn’t difficult to see she’s fighting back hard against a smile that came with the blush. Tulip cocked her head, and even Anne raised a questioning eyebrow. Seemed this was a seldom seen side of Luz for Anne as well.

“But, the girl’s new life in this new world was in danger. The cruel tyrant that ruled the Boiling Isles, Emperor Belos, has concocted a plan that threatens her home and her loved ones, both old and new. The girl cannot simply sit idly by and let that tyrant do as he pleases. She must take the fight to the Emperor.” Luz’s voice hardened, her gaze like steel. The showmanship was abandoned, replaced by something raw. Another new side of Luz that Tulip had yet to see had made itself known. 

“It was a difficult battle. Hands didn’t stay clean. Sacrifices were made. At times… she felt it’s hopeless to continue.” For a moment, her eyes were clouded, lost in her own memories, but a light - Luz’s light - broke through the dark, illuminating with perfect clarity. “But she cannot give up. What’s at stake was too great. Too important. Her friends didn’t let her give up, too. They kept her going. Reminded her that she’s not alone. Never alone.” 

There was a word Tulip wanted to use to describe Luz that she couldn’t quite pinpoint until now. Something electric shot up her spine when she realized she’s in the presence of a hero.

“Yes, it was difficult, it was harrowing, but it was a battle worth fighting for. In the end, it was a battle where we emerged victorious.”

Likening someone’s smile to rays of sunshine was, in Tulip’s opinion, one of the cheesiest things you could do, but _wow_. Just. _Wow_.

“We toppled Belos’ rule, brought light back to the Boiling Isles, and set its people free, once and for all.”

The orbs of light dotting the ceiling blinked out of existence, one by one. Luz let a breath escape her. Let her eyes close. Let herself enjoy her victory.

“And thus, a chapter closed on the girl’s story, and another chapter began, on yet another new world.”

Like any good performer, Luz closed her story with a graceful bow. Anne began clapping, and Tulip was quick to join in. What a story. Tulip will never see Luz in the same light ever again. Never in a million years would Tulip have guessed that this sweet girl who nurtured her back to health have toppled a monarchy before.

“And us peasants have no choice but to stan,” Anne said with a lopsided smile.

“Yeah, that was… that was a lot,” Tulip breathed shakily, suddenly feeling a little intimidated to be around Luz. Her story took quite an escalating turn at the end. Tulip’s still swallowing all of it in.

Luz plopped down on one of the easy chairs, gesturing towards Anne, then to the center of the room. “Anne, the stage is yours.”

“…yeah, I am not putting on a show like that.”

“Boo.”

Anne scooted along the floor until she reached a pink backpack in the corner, placed next to Tulip’s backpack, as well as a rapier and a crossbow. She reached inside and pulled out a small chest, made of dark wood and lined with gold engravings, depicting tropical trees and some kind of frog. Three gems were embedded on top of the chest, each one colored a dull grey. Anne set the chest down on her lap, running a thumb along its side as she regarded Tulip and Luz.

“Well. The whole thing started with me, my friends, Sasha and Marcy, and this music box that we… borrowed.”

“Stole,” Luz cut in, making good on her promise early.

Anne was not surprised. She looked pleased, if anything. “The status will become _borrowed_ when we get back.”

“Anyway. Surprise, surprise, the music box is magic, or- something. You open it, and boom.” Anne flipped the box open, facing Tulip and Luz. The inside was dark, glossy, and empty. “Zapped to another world.”

“The place is called Amphibia. Named like that because the folks living in it are all amphibians. Frogs, toads, newts, with some axolotls and salamanders on the side. Makes you glad Earth isn’t called ‘Humania’, right?” Anne cracked a quick, cheesy grin. “The box separated me from Sasha and Marcy. First few days, I was on my own. Just this feral girl in the wild, scrambling to survive.”

Anne’s gaze fell on the box and… she didn’t look sad, not quite, but suddenly Tulip remembered this girl is still a kid not much older than her and how _wrong_ it was that Tulip managed to forget that. Luz did look sad, like she’s doing it on Anne’s behalf. Anne seemed to sense the looks of pity, not bothering to look up to start squirming.

“No, don’t- I handled myself, okay? I’m here, aren’t I?” Anne smiled, and it would have been comforting if Tulip didn’t know better. “I wound up under the care of this frog family - the Plantars.” She reached inside a side pocket on the pink bag and pulled out, to Tulip’s surprise, a fully functioning phone. She unlocked it and showed off a selfie she took. Along with her grinning with a peace sign were two anthropomorphic frogs, a giant tadpole holding a flail in their flippers, and a horse-sized snail. It was not the weirdest thing Tulip has ever seen, but it came close.

“That’s Sprig, he’s my best buddy, the little polliwog there is Sprig’s little sister, Polly, and the old frog on the snail is our grandpa, Hop Pop. They were _super_ nice to me. Like, _way_ nicer than they should. They’re even willing to help me figure out a way home. Thought they were just eager to get rid of me, at first, but no. They were legit.” 

The happiness in Anne’s voice as she talked about the frog family was genuine, and a little infectious. “So I stayed with them for a while, in this little town called Wartwood. Killed time with getting into shenanigans-”

“Shen- _Anne_ -igans.”

Luz looked way too proud of that one. Even Anne agreed. “Congrats. Like it takes a geni- _Luz_ to come- no, no, _god_ , that’s worse.”

Tulip bit her lip, and tried, “Try _Tulip_ -sen to some of mine if you really want something bad.”

Anne groan-laughed, while Luz sighed dramatically. “Awful. Beautiful,” she swooned. “A girl after my own heart.”

“ _Shenanigans_ , getting to know the townsfolk, trying not to get killed, or eaten, or killed then eaten. It’s, uh, kinda wild, thinking back, just how much time I spent goofing off, until…”

Anne scrunched her brows, and Tulip couldn’t tell if she’s simply trying to recall something from memory or if the hesitation Tulip sensed wasn’t something she imagined.

“Until the weather let up, and we can make the trip to Newtopia, to figure out how to get me home.”

Nothing more from Anne. No reaction from Luz, either. Maybe Tulip did imagine it.

“That’s Amphibia’s capital city,” Luz added.

“And also, apparently, where Marcy ended up. The box zapped her smack dab in the middle of the city. And then she used some mad RPG know-how to work her way up until she’s some big hotshot that can get chummy with the king of Amphibia. Marcy’s been trying to find a way home too, her and the king, and doing a much better job at that than I was.” She lifted the box in her lap and gave it a shake. “This box? It’s out of power. It used up some energy getting from Earth to Amphibia, and the rest of it got scattered around. Three guesses where all that power ended up.”

Anne’s eyes flashed a brilliant, familiar blue. Tulip couldn’t decide whether the thought of at least two more people like Anne existing out there was intriguing or terrifying.

“These three gems? They used to be blue - me - purple - Sasha - and green - Marcy. ‘Course, we didn’t know that back then. We didn’t know we have superpowers for, like, seventy percent of our time there. What we do know is that there are temples all over Amphibia that can charge the box. So, that’s where we went next. Even ran into Sasha along the way. She ended up with the toads.”

Anne rubbed the back of her neck, slouching a little more where she sat cross-legged on the floor. “Also, turns out, there’s this whole weird prophecy about me, and Marcy, and Sasha? I dunno, the details are vague and frustrating and s’not really that important.”

“ _Oh_ my _god_.” A sudden, outraged whine came from Luz. “Can you _believe_ the blasphemy leaving this girl’s mouth?” 

Anne shot back with a pointed side-eye. “What’s your problem?”

“You got a whole-ass prophecy to yourself, and you just called it _weird_ and _not important_!”

“It is!”

Luz groused, crossing her arms. “The nerve of some people.”

Anne ignored her and continued her story. “So, yeah. Me, and Sasha, and Marcy are finally back together, and we found out about the whole energy and superpower thing. Didn’t need to go to any temple in the end. We can recharge the box ourselves.”

Anne placed a hand on the lid. Her eyes glowed blue again, but they gradually lose their shine. At the same time, one of the gems on the box started to gain color, until it shined with the same brilliant blue as Anne’s eyes. Anne flipped the lid open, revealing the interior filled a third of the way up by some kind of blue… not-liquid, that shifted and bubbled like boiling water, but crackled and zapped completely unlike boiling water.

“Like that.” Anne tilted the box in Tulip’s direction, goading her to have a closer look. Tulip was hesitant, but as always, her curiosity won out, and she leaned closer, quickly losing herself in the motions of the glowing not-liquid. Even Luz leaned in, mesmerized like Tulip.

Without warning, Anne plunged her hand into the box. The not-liquid splashed like water, but rapidly coalesced and seeped into Anne’s hand like it’s a sponge. A pulse shot up her body, the nerves in her arm, body, head lighting up blue in a wave, before everything settled to normal. Anne barely batted an eye at the whole process. Like she’d done this hundreds of times.

“Once we got that figured out, it was just a matter of leaving. I said goodbye to the Plantars. Thanked them for everything. Promised them we’ll see each other again, someday. Sasha and Marcy also had folks they had to say goodbye to. It was, uh, a pretty rough day.” Anne fell silent, and both Tulip and Luz allowed it to stretch for as long as it needed to be. “We put our energy into the box, open it, and boom. Bye bye, Amphibia.”

“And hello, this… world. That we’re stuck in, again. I think that was everything.” Half a beat passed before Anne snapped her fingers. “Oh! Also, fulfilled that prophecy thing. I guess.”

Just like Anne said. Everyone came with a story. Stories far more impressive than Tulip’s. It was definitely not their intention to make her feel inferior - the reason they shared their story in the first place was to make it fair for Tulip, after all - but she felt smaller all the same. Maybe that’s just the natural reaction to suddenly finding yourself in the company of a revolutionary hero and a superpowered figure of prophecy, when you’re only a runaway from a divorced home.

“Thanks for indulging me. You and Luz both.” Tulip smiled, and it did help with the tightness in her chest, just a little bit. She set her mind to sorting all the new information that she’d received, about Anne and Luz, about Amphibia, about the Boiling Isles, and about Anne’s friends, Sasha and Marcy.

Huh. Something about those three names, in that order, tickled the back of her mind. Reminded her of cold dinners alone in front of the television late at night, in another world, in another life.

“Hey, you went first. Like I said, s’only fair.” Anne shrugged, then not-so-subtly darted her eyes towards Luz. “‘Sides, methinks you’re not the only one indulging yourself.”

Luz blew her lips, but made no retort to defend herself. “Like that saying about Rome, all methods of interdimensional travel led to here,” she said instead. “Anne got here the earliest. About ten days ago, right?” She got a nod. “I got here two days after, and then we ran into each other a day later.”

“Almost literally,” Anne added, with a fond smile and a tiny giggle.

Tulip did the math in her head. The answer came as a shock to her. “You’ve only known each other for a week?” she asked, incredulous. “You two act like you have been friends for months.”

Luz got off her seat and crossed the room just to wrangle Anne by the neck into a crushing hug, wearing a grin that split her face. “What can I say? We are just meant to be.”

“Soulmates brought together by destiny. Or something,” Anne sang, circling an arm around Luz and leaning into the hug, peals of laughter shaking her body and spreading to Luz. It was all very sweet, and infectious enough to get Tulip to start giggling too.

Anne breathed a sigh. She untangled her arm from the hug. The look on her face had turned… not quite pensive, but she’s not smiling anymore.

“Tulip,” she started. “There’s one more thing we need to tell you.”

Luz seemed to understand what’s happening. Her smile vanishing, she released Anne, sitting down beside her, a small but noticeable gap between them.

“There’s this one other girl, besides the three of us, who ended up here.”

The sentence struck Tulip like lightning. Electric, energizing, paralyzing.

“She called herself Twelve. Ended up here with friends too - two of them - like me and Luz,” Anne continued. “I think she’s been here the longest out of any of us.”

If she hadn’t met One-One, she would’ve considered the name odd. Instead, her mind raced, connecting the unsaid dots. “So you think she might know something about this world?”

“Anne does,” Luz chimed in, staring straight ahead. “I wouldn’t know. Never met Twelve. Anne’s the only one who’s actually talked to her.”

There was a brief moment, where Anne spared Luz a side-eye, and for the life of her, Tulip couldn’t figure out what it meant. “Ran into her twice before I met Luz. Both times we talked- well, I say ‘talk’; it was mostly just her spouting ramblings that I couldn’t make sense of. But the _way_ that she talked - it’s like she knows this place. Kept acting like this place is her backyard. Or, at least, like it’s supposed to be.”

The dots all seemed to lead to a single point. “So she might know something about how to leave?” Tulip tentatively tried.

“Exactly! And then some.” Anne turned to look at Luz. “See? Tulip gets it.”

Luz hugged her knees to her chest, not meeting Anne’s gaze. “I keep telling you, we should focus on finding our friends.”

“Then tell me, where do we start?”

Luz didn’t answer. She just sat there in silence, wilting under Anne’s stare.

Tulip leaned forward, and hoped her tone didn’t come across as accusatory. “Why don’t you want to find Twelve?”

“I don’t- it’s not that I don’t _want_ to find Twelve. It’s just- we don’t really _need_ to find her,” clarified Luz. “We already _know_ how to leave. We know two! Anne’s box, and the demon door that I have.”

“Except the box needs to be fully charged to work, and that can’t happen without my friends,” Anne countered.

Luz blew a sigh. “And I handed the key to the demon door to Amity, right before she got taken.”

Tulip blinked. “ _What_? _”_

“So yeah, if we find our friends, we get a way home. Possibly,” Anne summarized. Was she not going to comment on what Luz said? “And if we find Twelve, she can help us find our friends.”

“ _Might_ help us,” Luz corrected. “You said it yourself. She’s rambling so much, you could barely get through to her. Why are you so sure she’ll help us?”

Okay, just going to completely breeze past it. Fine.

“Because her friends are missing too, Luz!” Anne pressed. “If she helps us, we’ll help her. Win-win!”

“It doesn’t seem like you made any progress _without_ Twelve.” Maybe that came out a little harsher than Tulip intended, but maybe they shouldn’t have ignored her. “I’m new here, so correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like finding Twelve is the only real option we have.”

Luz made a noise from the back of her throat as she bumped her forehead against her knee. She raised her head, opened her mouth-

Rapid raps against glass echoed from down the hallway. Tulip nearly jumped out of her seat. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach. Wasn’t this city supposed to be completely empty?

“Owlbert!”

Luz bolted to her feet and scrambled out of the room, tailed closely by Anne. Tulip stared blankly for a moment, before following after them.

The culprit of the noise was a small, brown owl, pecking away at the closed glass door. Luz slid the door open and the owl flew up to perch on her finger.

“What is it, Owlbert? Did you see something?” she asked. Was the owl Luz’s pet? Where has it been all this time?

The owl, apparently named Owlbert, stared up at Luz and nodded.

Anne’s eyes twinkled. “Could be Twelve.”

“Could be lots of other things,” Luz grimly reminded.

“Either way, I’m heading out.” Anne had already disappeared into the bedroom halfway through the sentence.

Luz made her move too. She let Owlbert hop off from her finger onto the balcony railing before dashing inside, passing Tulip into the living room. “I’m coming with you,” she called out.

Anne emerged from the bedroom, armored in the same manner as she was last night, sheathed sword in hand. “No.”

“No?” Luz, now with her staff in hand and a cape draped over her shoulders, currently shoving paper into her pockets and satchel, froze in the middle of the corridor.

“You stay here. Protect Tulip,” Anne ordered, not even looking at Luz. She slid her sword from its sheath, taking a moment to inspect its state before sliding it back inside and slinging it across her chest once she’s satisfied.

Something about Anne’s tone didn’t sit right with Tulip. Maybe she’s developing a dislike to being dismissed. “Hey, I can take care of myself.”

“So can I!” Luz emphasized her point by slamming her staff down. “You keep doing this, Anne. I get it, you’re the protective type. The team mom. Figured that out on day one. But we don’t need to be babied like this!”

“That’s not-” Anne took a deep breath, before fixing them both with a look. No, _the_ Look. “Twelve’s… twitchy. Bringing people she doesn’t know might scare her off.”

“What if it isn’t Twelve?”

Luz was met with a casual shrug. “Well, if they try to beat me up, I’ll beat ‘em up back. If they’re nice, then we’re getting a new friend.”

Luz looked annoyed, and this time, something told Tulip she actually was. Anne missed the look. She’d already turned around, stepping out into the balcony.

“Hey, Owlbert. I’ll give you all the treats you want if you show me the way,” she offered. The little owl seemed ecstatic to oblige, nodding, and quickly taking flight into the city.

“Aaaand she bribed the palisman,” Luz grumbled under her breath, taking a step towards the balcony. “Anne, we gotta-”

Anne pivoted in place. A translucent, glowing blue barrier materialized out of thin air, filling the corridor from floor to ceiling, completely cutting off Luz and Tulip from the balcony. Anne stood on the other side, her outstretched hand falling back to her side.

Tulip gaped. That’s apparently a thing Anne could do.

Luz pounded on the barrier with her fist. “ _Really_?”

“If you’re worried about me, don’t be.” Through the barrier, Anne cracked an easy grin. “Nothing hurts me.”

Anne spun around, leapt over the railing, and disappeared from sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Famous last words?
> 
> So, I stopped caring about the word count. I stopped caring whether or not a chapter is getting too long. A chapter is going to be as long as it needs to be. Look where that got me. Like, holy shit. This got way the fuck away from me. It’s not like I’m trying to make each chapter longer than the last. It just happens. Ah, well. I’m just glad I managed to finish it before midterms rolls around.
> 
> I know most of this chapter is going to be exposition central, so I tried to make it as interesting as possible by inserting some banter between the girls, as well as having Tulip offer her insight every now and again. It’s also kinda lowkey my prediction of how Amphibia and The Owl House is gonna end? There’s a reason why I kept a lot of the details vague, is what I’m saying. Here’s hoping y’all think it works.
> 
> Up next, we find out what Owlbert saw. Until then!
> 
> If y’all want to follow my writing and any other random stuff that I get up to, check out my tumblr right [here](https://chronicler-of-legends.tumblr.com/)!


	5. Bicker

Anne never liked coffee. She didn’t like the bitter taste, didn’t like the buzz it would give her, didn’t like how shaky and jittery and hyperaware she’d feel afterwards. She’ll never drink it just for the sake of drinking it. If she has to drink it, then it better be for a good reason, like if a deadline was coming up and Marcy won’t be able to finish their assignments on her own but she never said anything about it until the night before the deadline so Anne and Sasha had to scramble over to Marcy’s place at, like, midnight and finish it together in a fuzzy blur.

Calamity energy (as Marcy had dubbed it) is like coffee, but better, and worse.

It doesn’t have a taste, fortunately. But the buzz was all-consuming, permeating her body from the scalp of her head to the tips of her toe. Her senses were forced into overdrive, keeping her too awake and too alert, better than caffeine ever could. Sometimes she felt she should go insane, just from how much of _everything_ she perceived; like the droplet of sweat trailing down from her forehead to her cheek to the edge of her chin, or the way her ratty uniform and armor and sheath strap chafed against her skin with every motion she made, or the hairline fractures she left in the concrete with every stomp of her feet.

It could all get very distracting. And distractions were the last thing she needed when heading to a potential scuffle.

Ah, well. At least it helped her keep track of Owlbert.

The little owl was flying overhead a few feet ahead of her. Little guy’s trying his best, but Anne still had to slow down a few times when she overtook him. It sorta reminded her of spending hours chasing after pigeons in the park when she’s a toddler. Never imagined she’d ever beat any bird in a footrace, even though Owlbert wasn’t, y’know, actually a bird. Or was he? She’s still not exactly sure how palismans work.

Anyway. Having superpowers friggin’ _rules_. Never got that from coffee.

As Owlbert banked left on an intersection with Anne tailing close behind, past a person-running-a-cashier corner store, the road opened up ahead, leading to an expanse of vibrant green. The city park.

Anne stumbled upon the park once before, during her initial sweep of the city. The verdant green of the grass and the trees drew her in, a stark contrast to the ocean of concrete everywhere else in the city. She thought this might be the only spot in the city with any semblance of life, at first glance, but her senses quickly told her otherwise. She sensed nothing within. The trees were plastic, fake, the grass synthetic - too green to be real. This park was as dead as the rest of the city.

No, not dead. Dead meant it was alive once. This city never lived to begin with.

Also, from above, the park’s shaped like a person tilling the land. Or so Luz claimed.

But she sensed something now. A pulse of life, faint, distant, somewhere in there.

Anne shouted a quick thanks to Owlbert before sprinting past him with a sudden burst of speed, barely hearing a surprised and indignant squawk from somewhere behind her.

She stuck close to the provided footpath as she navigated further into the park. The fake vegetation got a lot thicker a lot quicker than she expected. Before long, she’d already completely lost sight of Owlbert, and the rest of the city. But the life she sensed only grew stronger, closer, so she must still be on the right track.

The footpath ended in a roundabout clearing, connected to three other paths leading elsewhere in the park. In the center of the roundabout was an ivory fountain, an intricate water feature left dry and unused. Anne skidded to a halt just before the edge of the treeline. There, hunched over unmoving by the fountain almost like a corpse, Anne saw her.

Long, wild, ginger locks spilling out from under a broken space-age biking helmet. An ensemble of pink and white and neon green looking almost like a space suit or a superhero costume. A chestplate cracked down the middle still proudly carrying the number ‘12’ in bold pink. A scratched up hockey stick lying by her feet. She looked so much worse than the last time Anne saw her.

“ _Twelve_!”

Her head snapped up to attention at the sound of her name, her eyes darting in panic until they spotted Anne. Despite the worrying state that she’s in, it seemed she’s at least alive and conscious. Anne breathed a sigh of relief.

And groaned in annoyance when the first thing Twelve did was scramble to her feet, snatch up her hockey stick, and bolt in the opposite direction.

Here we go again.

Catching up to her was hardly an issue. Instead, Anne leapt over Twelve, landing on the other side with a clean three pointer, cutting off her escape route. The panicky girl jumped back, bracing her hockey stick in a defensive stance. Anne had to say her pitch, fast. She knew her time before Twelve tried to escape again, or worse, resorted to violence, was short.

“Would you just-! Gimme, like, five seconds to talk!”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” Twelve roared, but taking two steps back as she did. Up close, she looked like she’s been through Hell. Her eyes were bloodshot, with enough dark bags under it to rival Marcy at her worst. Her arms were little more than skin stretched thin over bone. Her footing was unsteady, like she’s a stiff breeze away from collapsing. When was the last time she slept? Or ate? The girl had to be running on fumes at this point.

Anne sighed. She let the energy buzzing inside her subside, let her senses revert to normal. All that talk about not wanting to spook Twelve, and that’s exactly what she did the second she met her. She made a calming motion with her hands. “Dude, just hear me out, will ya?”

“No,” she spat. The knuckles wrapped around the hockey stick turned white. “Now, move! Before I make you.”

Anne tried not to sound smug, or patronizing. “You know you can’t.”

“I will!” Twelve stamped her feet, teeth bared. It was an intimidating sight, maybe, to someone other than Anne.

Anne thinned her lips into a line, and breathed in, and out. “Okay. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we just… start over? Pretend this is the first time we met?” She put on a smile and opened her arms welcomingly. “Hi. Name’s Anne, and you must be Twelve! I’m stuck in this weird world, same as you, but! I think, if we work together, we can absolutely find a way out of here. How’s that sound?”

Twelve, much to Anne’s lack of surprise, voiced her stubborn thought with a short, succinct, “No.”

“Twelve, dude, I’m trying. I’m really trying. You gotta give me something back,” Anne said wearily.

Twelve’s eyes narrowed dangerously, her grip on the hockey stick adjusting as she snarled, “The only thing I’m giving you is a hockey stick to the face.”

Which won’t do a thing, but Anne didn’t say that out loud. “I legit don’t get why you’re acting so hostile,” she said, shaking her head. “Seriously, did I do something to you? The last two times we met have been nothing but you screaming at me.”

Something different crept into the anger in Twelve’s eyes. Something wet that made her eyes glassy. Hurt. She looked hurt. “You said I have several screws loose. Said I should get myself checked. You called me a lunatic!”

Anne was ready with a retort, but the way Twelve’s voice cracked held her tongue, and sent her flashing back to their second meeting. The slug-like beast that Anne bested moments before encountering Twelve again. The loud, long-winded, disjointed rant that Anne quickly dismissed as nonsense ramblings. The insults she hurled at Twelve through grumbles and mutterings under her breath. 

She didn’t think Twelve could hear her. Not that any of it was okay to say. “I… did. I did do that. And I’m sorry.”

Twelve blinked, like she didn’t expect this to happen. Like this wasn’t something that happens often with her. Suddenly, Anne realized how small Twelve was. How young she looked. Suddenly, Anne had a feeling this girl might be younger than her.

“I was tired, and annoyed, and angry. Which didn’t excuse any of what I said! Not one bit. I messed up bad. I’m sorry,” Anne finished. Mincing around the issue was useless. The things she said were terrible and awful, that’s final. Now it’s up to Twelve to accept her apology.

Twelve’s guard visibly lowered. Her stance changed, the distance between her feet shrinking. Her hockey stick fell to her side, not completely letting go but not holding onto it like her life depended on it either. She scratched the corner of her puffed cheek, staring at things that wasn’t Anne.

“Well… d-don’t do it again. Ever. Forever and ever,” she said, stumbling over her words, like this wasn’t something that she does often.

“I promise,” Anne replied, ready with a smile when Twelve looked her way.

Twelve’s pasty cheeks suddenly turned bright red. Been seeing that a lot lately. Wonder why. “This doesn’t mean I’m joining you or anything,” she said quickly, pouting. “For all I know, you could have something to do with this place getting all messed up.”

So she hasn’t completely broken through just yet. The corners of Anne’s smile curled downwards ever so slightly. “I guarantee you, I know exactly jack about what’s going on.”

“Mhm. Sure.” Twelve crossed her arms, or tried to, because she stubbornly refused to let go of her hockey stick. “I know a liar when I see one.”

“If I do know what’s going on, why would I be bothering you?” Anne reasoned.

“To mess with me and slow me down,” Twelve shot back with an accusatory stare that really just gets on your nerves. “Liar.”

Anne’s eye twitched. “I am not lying.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes! You are!”

“I. Am. Not.”

“Yuh-uh!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

“Don’t you uh-huh my nuh-uh!” Anne released a wordless groan to the sky, hands clawing and pulling at the tangles of her hair. “God! What are you, five?!”

Her left hand immediately flew down to cover her mouth. Her chest seized with sudden regret. Dammit, literally not ten seconds after she promised. Twelve continued to glare, silently pointing a finger at the number on her chestplate.

“No, I meant, like-” A sudden thought stopped Anne from finishing the sentence. “Wait, is there actually a Five somewhere? Is that how you got the name?”

A beat passed with Twelve silently, blankly staring. “This is a waste of my time,” she said, turning on her heels to leave in the opposite direction. “I’ve got better things to do.”

Anne didn’t use her powers this time. She jogged up to Twelve and held her back with a hand on her shoulder, like how a normal person would do it. “Finding your friends, right?” she guessed, and was most likely correct. “Me too. We can work together! I’ll help you find your friends, you’ll help me find mine.”

Twelve recoiled away from Anne’s touch, fixed her with a glare for a moment, before storming off. “I can do this by myself! I don’t need you messing with how I do things!” she screamed back.

Anne watched the distance grow between them, jaws clenching. “And you’ve been doing your thing for, what, ten days? More, right? How’s your progress looking so far?” she fired. The question pierced right through Twelve’s armor.

Twelve froze in place. Anne couldn’t see her face, but the panic emanating from her was palpable. When she spoke, she’s quieter that she’s ever been. “I just. Need to look harder.”

“Twelve, you can’t possibly search through this entire world by yourself. You can’t even search through _this city_ by yourself!”

Twelve whirled around, glassy-eyed, to hurl a shrill, “Watch me!”

Twelve swallowed so loud that Anne could hear it. She frantically rubbed the back of her torn-up fingerless gloves against her eyes before a tear could leak out. Anne regretted ever being angry or annoyed at her even more. All Anne could see now was a lost girl, scared for herself, scared for her friends. She knew the feeling well. 

“Twelve, if this place really does go on forever, then our best bet is sticking together.”

“How would _you_ know how this place works?” Twelve muttered darkly, even as her eyes began to water again.

“I don’t. I got that from you.” Anne had dredged that up from what little she could parse of Twelve’s words from their previous two meetings. That detail was among the ones that stuck out to her the most. “You said it yourself. This place doesn’t have an end.”

Twelve sniffed. Paused. “What?”

“You said this world is endless.”

There was second, shorter pause. Twelve’s expression twisted, panicked distress melting to give way to indignant anger, like Anne had just said the stupidest thing she’d ever heard in her life.

“This world is _called_ Endless!” She spread her arms wide, to the whole world around her. “This! Is! Endless Island!”

Two brain cells made a spark in Anne’s head.

_Ohhhhh_. Endless, with a capital ‘E’.

Oooh _boy_ , that’s kinda embarrassing.

Welp. There’s your reason for why the box didn’t choose her for her wit.

Lucky for Anne, Twelve was too busy launching into another frantic tirade to notice her reddening cheeks.

“But it’s all messed up and wrong! I can’t find Brown Roger! Or Flaps! Or Mack and Beefhouse! Dr. Champion, Tasty Troy, Guy Pleasant, Borbo; they’re all gone! It’s not supposed to get dark! This city isn’t supposed to exist! The desert isn’t supposed to be there! _And my key isn’t working_!”

The stream of words leaving Twelve hit a high-pitched crescendo, stopping only because she’s panting so quickly and heavily Anne’s almost certain she’s on the verge of hyperventilating. Her eyes had lost focus. She’s clutching her hands against her cracked chestplate, hockey stick forgotten and left clattering to the ground. Anne was ready to rush in if she actually collapsed.

“I’m all messed up and wrong too! I’m supposed to be the hero! I’m supposed to be strong, a-and fast, and-” A sob wracked her entire body, sending her to her knees. Anne would’ve been by her side if not for Twelve’s eyes regaining their focus to glare at her, pupils turning into tiny pinpricks. “Me! Not you!”

Before, the outburst would have provoked Anne. Now, she just wanted to give Twelve a hug. “Twelve, this is all really scary, I know, I’ve been there. I don’t know what, or why, or how it happened, and I’m kinda scared myself. But if you come with us, we-”

“You took it.”

Anne’s words died in her throat as Twelve’s voice dropped, turning dark like a terrible nightmare.

“You took it! Didn’t you?!” Twelve growled. It’s scary how much she sounded like an actual animal. “O-or the Butt Witch took it! And gave it to you!”

A noise almost left Anne. Even in the midst of the mess that this devolved into, that last part stuck out like a sore, malformed thumb. “The what what?”

“You’re working with the Butt Witch! _Aren’t you_?!” Another accusation, with that name brought up again. Was it even a name? Who would choose a name like that?

Twelve bared her teeth. It’s all going downhill, fast. Anne barely had time to scramble for the handle. “Dude, what-?”

Before shit went flying off of it.

Twelve snatched up her hockey stick. Her charge was angry. Loud. Sloppy. She’s aiming for Anne’s left temple.

Energy flowed. Experience did the rest. 

The stick never came close to her head. Her right hand caught it in the middle of its arc, and kept it there. Twelve balked, making a choking noise from the back of her throat. Her eyes went wide, glassy enough now that the blue glow could be reflected off of it, but suddenly narrowed dangerously. She pulled, giving her all to free the stick from Anne’s grip, to no avail. A wordless growl escaped her. She dug the heels of her feet into the ground, gritted teeth on full display, and pulled again. Anne didn’t budge an inch.

“No!” she screamed, voice cracking and growing hoarse from all the screaming she did, but she never stopped, punctuated with attempt after attempt to free her hockey stick. “I’m the one! Who gets to be! Super strong!”

Anne kept her face stoic and neutral with every last bit of willpower she has. The sight was getting sadder by the second.

“Give me back my powers! My friends! My world!”

No, that’s enough. Anne couldn’t watch this poor girl breaking down any further. Her grip twisted and she pulled. The stick slipped out of Twelve’s trembling fingers, the girl stumbling forward slightly from the force. She immediately jumped back, like she’s only now realizing that Anne was much, much stronger than she was. The fear in her eyes was something Anne never wanted to see again.

Anne closed the distance. Twelve flinched, shrunk, squeezed her eyes shut.

Anne wasn’t sure what Twelve expected. Probably not a hug, judging from how she completely locked up like a statue when Anne wrapped her arms around her. Anne kept the energy flowing through her body. Sasha and Marcy said she’s warmer that way. Maybe that’s what Twelve needed.

“Them’s fighting words for someone within hugging distance. Before you ask, no, I’m not mad at you. I get how you feel,” she muttered, gently, to Twelve’s ear. “You’re scared - for this world, for your friends, for yourself. You’ve been out on your own for god knows how long, doing whatever you can to survive, in a world that’s not yours. Messed up as it is, I know exactly how that feels.”

Anne pulled away, but still kept Twelve at arm’s length. She still looked like she’s in shock. But that’s better than being lost in hysteria, Anne supposed. “But then I got help. They were strangers to me too, which I guess is scary in a different way, but they really did help me, and everything really started getting better for me with their help.”

At some point in her little speech, Anne realized she’s basically equating herself, Luz, and Tulip with the Plantars, and suddenly she’s worried if they could clear a bar that high.

“I’m not going to force anything on you, but _please_ Twelve, we need-”

Anne was cut off by a sudden sharp peck on her cheek, and Twelve wasn’t the culprit.

Owlbert fluttered in place to her left, wearing what must be the owl equivalent of a frown. Twelve jumped in her embrace, but after the initial surprise, she looked more bewildered than scared at this little owl that suddenly appeared.

“Owlbert, not now,” shooed Anne, returning her attention to Twelve.

Wrong answer, according to Owlbert, because he darted in to pull at her hair with his talons. She retaliated with a swipe of her hand. He swerved out of the way unscathed, the lucky little menace.

“Alright, sorry I ditched you, but I’m kinda in the middle of something here,” Anne hissed, while Twelve silently stared at the strange exchange. Owlbert’s still glowering at her as best as an owl could as she turned to Twelve with her composure regained.

Anne managed half a word before Owlbert landed on her pauldrons and started rapping his beak against the side of her neck like a woodpecker. It didn’t hurt, but with her senses amplified, it was distracting as hell.

She brushed Owlbert off of her, and snapped none too nicely, “Oh my god, _what_?”

Owlbert didn’t hoot or chirp or make any noise. He silently looked at Anne, then at Twelve, then back at Anne, and slowly shook his head. Something dark and cold shot down Anne’s spine.

A pulse of life. Not right in front of her. Not Twelve’s. But somewhere behind her to her left, creeping closer to the edge of the clearing. She’d been too preoccupied with Twelve to notice it until now. She snapped her head at its direction, and the pulse repositioned itself, circling to the opposite end of the clearing with inhuman speed. The human eye would only see fake shrubs and trees, but for a split second, through the shade and the greens, Anne spotted a glimpse of dark pink fur. 

“Twelve wasn’t who you saw, was it?”

Anne sensed, rather than saw, Owlbert shaking his head.

Twelve’s trembling voice cut through the grim silence. “W-what’s going on?”

Anne Boonchuy heard Twelve’s question. Gemheart seized the hilt of the sword on her back without hesitation . The Star of Calamity gave the answer in a low, dangerous growl.

“It’s _her_.”

* * *

Tulip perked up when the barrier dispersed maybe five minutes after Anne left the apartment. She expected Luz to immediately take the chance, running to the balcony and chasing after Anne with a scolding at the ready, but no. Luz rose to her feet, took quick two steps as if to give chase, paused, then seemed to be content with pacing up and down the corridor.

Come to think of it, the apartment door hadn’t been blocked in any way. Luz could have easily gone after Anne even before the barrier dropped. She just chose not to.

Tulip’s curiosity moved her tongue, like it often did. “You’re not going after Anne?”

Luz stopped just short of completing lap thirty one. She looked over her shoulder, at the glass door and the balcony, and answered heavily, “I don’t know.”

“But you were dead set on going with Anne earlier,” Tulip said, halfway between a reminder and a question.

“I knoooow,” Luz deflated, plopping down to sit cross-legged in the middle of the corridor. She spent a few seconds staring at the balcony, chin half-buried in the collar of her cape, contemplating something - what, Tulip couldn’t tell for the life of her - before turning to Tulip on the living room couch.

“Thing is, Anne… just has a sense for these things,” Luz said, the words a result of firsthand memory. “You look at her and you can just tell - she’s been in more fights than she should be. She’s got the experience, y’know?”

Tulip was inclined to agree, and not just for fights. Anne simply has more experience than she should. The life she lived was at least double her age. “So you do trust the call she made.”

Luz nodded, slow at first, but quickly gaining speed and confidence. “And with those frog prophecy powers of hers, she’s pretty much unbeatable!”

As far as Tulip could tell, Luz genuinely believed that. She has the utmost faith that Anne could not only fend for herself against anything this world throws at her, but also emerge victorious. And something told Tulip that faith wasn’t earned through words alone. Luz has seen what Anne was capable of with her own eyes. 

“But you’re still worried?” And that was the issue that Tulip had just nipped right in the bud. Despite Luz’s faith, “Something’s making you worry.”

Tulip wasn’t sure what she hit, but she hit something. Luz pressed a closed knuckle against her lips, in almost the exact same way as she did during her story session earlier. It’s what she does when she’s holding something back. And she doesn’t like keeping secrets.

“We…” Luz blew a sigh. Unlike before, now she’d given up on being tight-lipped, “there’s one _one_ more thing you need to know, Tulip.”

Tulip leaned forward so fast in her seat she nearly gave herself whiplash. She wasn’t expecting this, but she’s all ears.

“Amity and Willow, Sasha and Marcy; they weren’t simply separated from us.” Luz paused. Swallowed. The dramatic effect was most likely unintentional. “They were… taken.”

Tulip held back a blooming smile, but stars did twinkle in her eyes. Finally. “Yeah. You slipped that out, earlier.”

“Er, yeah, we always planned on telling you. Just didn’t want to freak you out by dumping too much stuff on you. But it’s better if you know now,” Luz explained with a tinge of regret. “There’s this monster out there. Big, dark pink fur all over, three tails, four arms that are all misshapen and gross. She’s stronger, faster, _smarter_ than any other beast we’ve seen.”

Tulip’s eyebrow quirked. She?

“She took Amity and Willow. Took Sasha and Marcy.” Luz closed her eyes. This hurt for her to say. To remember. “She ambushed me, Amity, and Willow right after we arrived. The only reason I wasn’t taken with them was because I hid. Anne said Sasha and Marcy were picked off while they were split up. By the time Anne realized something’s up, she’s long gone.”

Luz opened her eyes and, once again, harkened Tulip back to her story session in the worst possible way. To the time her eyes were clouded with fear.

“This monster - Anne and I have been calling her… the Jaguar.”

Tulip tried not to focus on how this monster was able to rattle a revolutionary hero who toppled a monarchy, and more on things that doesn’t scare the hell out of her.

“Why Jaguar?”

Luz shrugged. “She just looks like a jaguar. Like a really, really messed up, mutated jaguar.” She breathed in, and breathed out. She’s trying not to shudder. “I think Anne thinks she can take on the Jaguar in a fair fight.”

“But you don’t agree?”

Luz actually looked a bit irked. “ _I_ actually fought her. She’s something else. Nothing in the Boiling Isles prepared me for her. I don’t know if anything in Amphibia could prepare Anne.”

Tulip hadn’t actually heard much about the dangers that exist in Amphibia, but she’s going to assume Anne had told Luz all about it. To hear Luz say so with such conviction didn’t help with the cold sweat running down Tulip’s back.

“If there’s anything that can beat Anne-” Luz cut herself off with a grimace, like she’s afraid saying it out loud would cause it to happen. “If a fight with the Jaguar has to happen, I’d feel a lot better if I’m there to fight with her.”

Tulip wasn’t sure if this was comforting at all - probably not - but she said anyway, “It might not be the Jaguar.”

“No, don’t- you’re just tempting it.”

“Tempting what?”

Luz gestured vaguely towards everything. “Fate. Destiny. Whoever’s in charge of writing this story. The whole thing.”

Tulip nearly asked if Luz really believed in those kinds of things, but held herself back. This was hardly the time nor the place to be discussing that. Instead, she resigned herself to watching Luz staring at the balcony, looking almost forlorn in her silence. She briefly wondered if Luz’s anxiety, like her faith, came from experience too. That she once stayed back while someone she cared about went off to face danger on their own for her sake and got hurt, or worse.

A dark pit opened in Tulip’s stomach. Sacrifices were made. That’s what Luz said.

Tulip wanted to slap herself, and maybe Luz too, for that matter. Wallowing and digging themselves deeper into despair won’t do them any good. Inferring from what Luz explained, then Anne’s last encounter with the Jaguar was ten days ago, and Luz’s was eight. What were the chances of that beast suddenly appearing again now, of all times? At best, it could really be Twelve or some other lost individual who’d found themselves stranded in this world. At worst, it could be some other terrible beast, that Anne would have no trouble dispatching. She could feel the pit in her stomach close, little by little.

Until she heard the explosion.

She thought it wasn’t an explosion at first. Or maybe she wished too hard that it wasn’t an explosion. Maybe it was a frying pan in the kitchen that fell over or something. But it felt too powerful, came from too far away. Luz shot to her feet like she’d been electrocuted, disappearing from sight in the direction of the balcony. Tulip stayed frozen for a beat more before she sprinted out of the room.

They both saw it. It was impossible for either of them to not notice. A faint trail of greyish-black against the startlingly clear blue sky, emanating from somewhere over the rows of human-shaped buildings. 

“I-It’s okay. Jaguars don’t make explosions,” Tulip shakily said, after noticing the fear and panic dawning on Luz’s face, hoping it’ll help.

But it didn’t, judging from how Luz grimaced and whined, “ _Noooo_ , Tulip, don’t say that out loud.”

“Why?”

“Because now it’s going to _be_ the Jaguar and it _can_ make explosions.”

Their eyes returned to the horizon, to the trail of smoke, Tulip’s not sure why. Searching, maybe, for good news. For a sign that things weren’t as bad as it seemed.

Tulip spotted the little bundle of earthy brown feathers before Luz, but Luz was the first to exclaim, “Owlbert!”

Owlbert hovered and slowed until he came to perch on the balcony railing. He didn’t make a sound. Didn’t chirp or hoot or anything. He just looked up at Luz with his big, round eyes. Tulip has never seen an owl look scared before.

Irrational as it might be, she couldn’t help the pang of guilt swelling in her chest.

Luz dashed back inside, leaving Tulip alone with Owlbert. Just in case both her and Luz completely misread the situation, Tulip tried asking, “Is it her? The Jaguar?”

Owlbert stared at her now, still not making a sound. Not that he needed to. Tulip already figured. Ask a stupid question.

When Tulip returned to the living room, Luz was on her knees, gathering up paper and pencil and other scattered miscellaneous components and tucking them inside her satchel. But she’s not stuffing them in a frantic rush like before. She’s filing them, carefully, placing specific glyphs in specific slots. It’s something she’s done hundreds of times before, and something she’s ready to do hundreds of times more. 

Luz rose to her feet and whirled around. With her cape flowing behind her, with her satchel strapped across her chest, with her staff gripped decisively in her hand, suddenly, she’s not just Luz anymore. Suddenly, she’s a hero. The light of the Boiling Isles.

“The front door is rigged to shock anyone who touches it that’s not you, me, or Anne. If anything or anyone breaks through, Anne made a hole under the bed that you can hide in. Or, you can go to the balcony of the room next door. It’s close enough to jump to and I already unlocked the door. If I don’t come back in thirty minutes, I want you to-” 

“I’m coming with you,” Tulip somehow managed to say through her starstruck stupor. Nobody’s more caught off guard by it than herself. The surprised look on Luz’s face didn’t last for very long, quickly replaced with a quirked smile of understanding.

“I hate hypocrites. Thanks for reminding me,” she said. “You absolutely will.”

Luz walked over to a particular corner of the room and set her staff down for a moment. “Let’s hope Sasha and Marcy are okay with lending their stuff.” She turned to face Tulip, rapier in one hand, crossbow in another. “Your pick.”

Tulip continued to surprise herself by taking both the crossbow and the rapier from Luz’s hands. “I know a thing or two about popping bad guys,” she declared, and a rapier wouldn’t handle all that differently from a donut-holer, right?

Luz’s smile grew, and somehow Tulip’s boldness grew with it. She let Luz strap the crossbow to her left wrist, give her a crash course on how to operate the peculiar firing mechanism, retrieve a quiver of crossbow bolts from within Anne’s backpack to fasten it on Tulip’s left hip, and fasten the rapier and its sheath to her right hip.

Luz stepped back, looking satisfied, and maybe even a little proud? Tulip stared down at herself, at the crossbow and the rapier, a small part of her quietly wishing she still had a reflection, just so she’d know what she looked like armed with an honest-to-god crossbow _and_ rapier. She still had no idea how she’ll fare with these weapons, or if she could compare to what Luz and Anne was capable of. But that won’t stop her from helping them in whatever small way she could. If all she could do was make momentary distractions or take potshots from afar, then she’ll be a constant thorn on the Jaguar’s side. Tenacious. Persistent. Perennial.

“That’s a great look on you,” Luz beamed, but she didn’t wait for a reply before picking her staff back up and turning on her heels. Tulip followed suit. No time to lose.

Out in the balcony again, Owlbert fluttered up to perch on top of Luz’s staff at her signal. Tulip watched, a bit dumbfounded for the umpteenth time this morning, as Luz seemed to screw the little owl in place, feathers and flesh transforming into wood, until he became the once missing owl effigy that formed the head of the staff. So that’s where he came from.

Luz stomped the staff against the floor. The wings of the owl effigy unfurled and spread wide. She straddled the staff, owl pointed forward, and the staff began to levitate, lifting Luz up with it, like a witch on her-

Right. A witch.

Luz offered her hand, and Tulip accepted it. She vaulted one leg over the staff, and suddenly, she’s a backseat flyer to a witch.

“This won’t be a kiddie ride. Hang on tight.”

Tulip did as she was told. The staff jerked in place, then launched into the sky, leaving the safety of the shelter behind, charging into battle under Luz’s command.

“Hang in there, Anne. We’re coming!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And your next line is, “HOLY SHIT IS THAT KIPO”
> 
> I honestly surprised myself with how fast I got this chapter done. Just under three weeks is a new record for me. Obviously, being shorter than the chapter before it for once definitely helped me. This fic is also way more structured and better planned out as we get closer to the Main Event. That helped keep me on track and keep the word count down. 
> 
> Each girl has been challenging in their own way to write and Reggie is no different. Someone has expressed concern whether or not I can keep her in character without making her come across as too big of a jerk, and boy I felt that. I guess it sorta helped that we first meet her in this desperate, semi-delirious state, so she’s already kinda out-of-character to begin with. But I leave it to y’all to call whether I did good or not.
> 
> Anyway, lots of big milestones with this chapter! We are now a third of the way through this fic, we finally meet Reggie, we finally get some info on what kind of world the girls are in, and all the main characters have been introduced! On to the second act!
> 
> Up next, things get bad. Until then!

**Author's Note:**

> If y’all want to follow my writing and any other random stuff that I get up to, check out my tumblr right [here](https://chronicler-of-legends.tumblr.com/)!


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